c/a^/  4 

r 


# 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  from 

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THE  SHY. 


Berry  well,  now  lo  ole  Mm  trengh.'.  said,  the  Hack., 
peeping  over  Hie  lions ekeeper's  shoulder,  as  he  held  a 
long.  lank,  candle  of  yello'W  tallow,  in  snch  a in  aimer 
as  to  throw  its  feehle  light  on  the  ■volume." 


HEW  TDRK . "WAT  OtAOsT  SEND  & 


THE  SPY 


A TALE 


OF  THE  NEUTRAL  GROUND. 


BY 

J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


Breathes  there  a man  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said. 

This  is  my  own,  my  native  Tand ! ” 


ILLUSTRATED  FROM  DRAWINGS 

cff* 


NEW  YORK: 

W.  A.  TOWNSEND  AND  COMPANY. 

1861. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 
W.  A.  TOWNSEND  AND  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York 


C.  A.  ALVORD.  PRINTER,  NEW  YORK. 


%l3 

Cl%sp 

\%to\ 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  author  has  often  been  asked  if  there  were  any 
foundation  in  real  life,  for  the  delineation  of  the  prin- 
cipal character  in  this  book.  He  can  give  no  clearer 
answer  to  the  question,  than  by  laying  before  his  read- 
ers a simple  statement  of  the  facts  connected  with  its 
original  publication. 

Many  years  since,  the  writer  of  this  volume  was  at 
the  residence  of  an  illustrious  man,  who  had  been 
employed  in  various  situations  of  high  trust  during 
the  darkest  days  of  the  American  revolution.  The 
discourse  turned  upon  the  effects  which  great  political 
excitement  produce  on  character,  and  the  purifying  con- 
sequences of  a love  of  country,  when  that  sentiment  is 
powerfully  and  generally  awakened  in  a people.  He 
who,  from  his  years,  his  services,  and  his  knowledge  of 


vi 


INTEODUCTION. 


men,  was  best  qualified  to  take  the  lead  in  such  a con- 
versation, was  the  principal  speaker.  After  dwelling 
on  the  marked  manner  in  which  the  great  struggle  of 
the  nation,  during  the  wrar  of  1775,  had  given  a new 
and  honorable  direction  to  the  thoughts  and  practices 
of  multitudes  whose  time  had  formerly  been  engrossed 
by  the  most  vulgar  concerns  of  life,  he  illustrated  his 
opinions  by  relating  an  anecdote,  the  truth  of  which  he 
could  attest  as  a personal  witness. 

The  dispute  between  England  and  the  United  States 
of  America,  though  not  strictly  a family  quarrel,  had 
many  of  the  features  of  a civil  war.  The  people  of  the 
latter  were  never  properly  and  constitutionally  subject 
to  the  people  of  the  former,  but  the  inhabitants  of  both 
countries  owed  allegiance  to  a common  king.  The 
Americans,  as  a nation,  disavowed  this  allegiance,  and 
the  English  choosing  to  support  their  sovereign  in  the 
attempt  to  regain  his  power,  most  of  the  feelings  of  an 
internal  struggle  were  involved  in  the  conflict.  A 
large  proportion  of  the  emigrants  from  Europe,  then 
established  in  the  colonies,  took  part  with  the  crown ; 
and  there  were  many  districts  in  which  their  influence, 
united  to  that  of  the  Americans  who  refused  to  lay 
aside  their  allegiance,  gave  a decided  preponderance 
to  the  royal  cause.  America  was  then  too  young,  and 
too  much  in  need  of  every  heart  and  hand,  to  regard 
these  partial  divisions,  small  as  they  were  in  actual 
amount,  with  indifference.  The  evil  was  greatly  in- 
creased by  the  activity  of  the  English  in  profiting  by 
these  internal  dissensions ; and  it  became  doubly  serious 


INTRODUCTION. 


vii 


when  it  was  found  that  attempts  were  made  to  raise 
various  corps  of  provincial  troops,  who  were  to  be 
banded  with  those  from  Europe,  to  reduce  the  young 
republic  to  subjection.  Congress  named  an  especial 
and  a secret  committee,  therefore,  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  defeating  this  object.  Of  this  committee  Mr. 
, the  narrator  of  the  anecdote,  was  chairman. 

In  the  discharge  of  the  novel  duties  which  now  de- 
volved on  him,  Mr. had  occasion  to  employ  an 

agent  whose  services  differed  but  little  from  those  of  a 
common  spy.  This  man,  as  will  easily  be  understood, 
belonged  to  a condition  in  life  which  rendered  him  the 
least  reluctant  to  appear  in  so  equivocal  a character. 
He  was  poor,  ignorant,  so  far  as  the  usual  instruction 
was  concerned  ; but  cool,  shrewd,  and  fearless  by  na- 
ture. It  was  his  office  to  learn  in  what  part  of  the 
country  the  agents  of  the  crown  were  making  their 
efforts  to  embody  men,  to  repair  to  the  place,  enlist, 
appear  zealous  in  the  cause  he  affected  to  serve,  and 
otherwise  to  get  possession  of  as  many  of  the  secrets  of 
the  enemy  as  possible.  The  last  he  of  course  commu- 
nicated to  his  employers,  who  took  all  the  means  in 
their  power  to  counteract  the  plans  of  the  English,  and 
frequently  with  success. 

It  will  readily  be  conceived  that  a service  like  this 
was  attended  with  great  personal  hazard.  In  addition 
to  the  danger  of  discovery,  there  was  the  daily  risk  of 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans  themselves, 
who  invariably  visited  sins  of  this  nature  more  severely 
on  the  natives  of  the  country  than  on  the  Europeans 


INTRODUCTION. 


viii 

who  fell  into  their  hands.  In  fact,  the  agent  of  Mr. 

was  several  times  arrested  by  the  local  authorities ; 

and,  in  one  instance,  he  was  actually  condemned  by 
his  exasperated  countrymen  to  the  gallows.  Speedy 
and  private  orders  to  his  gaoler  alone  saved  him  from 
an  ignominious  death.  He  was  permitted  to  escape ; 
and  this  seeming,  and  indeed  actual,  peril  was  of  great 
aid  in  supporting  his  assumed  character  among  the 
English.  By  the  Americans,  in  his  little  sphere,  he 
was  denounced  as  a bold  and  inveterate  Tory.  In  this 
manner  he  continued  to  serve  his  country  in  secret 
during  the  early  years  of  the  struggle,  hourly  environed 
by  danger,  and  the  constant  subject  of  unmerited  op- 
probrium. 

In  the  year Mr. was  named  to  a high  and 

honorable  employment  at  a European  court.  Before 
vacating  his  seat  in  Congress,  he  reported  to  that  body 
an  outline  of  the  circumstances  related,  necessarily 
suppressing  the  name  of  his  agent,  and  demanding  an 
appropriation  in  behalf  of  a man  who  had  been  of  so 
much  use,  at  so  great  risk.  A suitable  sum  was  voted, 
and  its  delivery  was  confided  to  the  chairman  of  the 
secret  committee. 

Mr. took  the  necessary  means  to  summon  his 

agent  to  a personal  interview^.  They  met  in  a wood, 
at  midnight.  Here  Mr. complimented  his  com- 

panion on  his  fidelity  and  adroitness ; explained  the 
necessity  of  their  communications  being  closed  ; and 
finally  tendered  the  money.  The  other  drew  back,  and 
declined  receiving  it.  “ The  country  has  need  of  all  its 


INTRODUCTION.' 


IX 


means,”  lie  said ; “ as  for  myself,  I can  work,  or  gain  a 
livelihood  in  various  ways.”  Persuasion  was  useless, 
for  patriotism  was  uppermost  in  the  heart  of  this  re- 
markable individual;  and  Mr. departed,  bearing 

with  him  the  gold  he  had  brought,  and  a deep  respect 
for  the  man  who  had  so  long  hazarded  his  life,  unre- 
quited, for  the  cause  they  served  in  common. 

The  writer  is  under  an  impression  that,  at  a later  day, 
the  agent  of  Mr. consented  to  receive  a remuner- 

ation for  what  he  had  done;  but  it  was  not  until  his 
country  was  entirely  in  a condition  to  bestow  it. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  an  anecdote  like 
this,  simply  but  forcibly  told  by  one  of  its  principal 
actors,  made  a deep  impression  on  all  who  heard  it. 
Many  years  later,  circumstances,  which  it  is  unnecessary 
to  relate,  and  of  an  entirely  adventitious  nature,  in- 
duced the  writer  to  publish  a novel,  which  proved  to 
be,  what  he  little  foresaw  at  the  time,  the  first  of  a tol- 
erably long  series.  The  same  adventitious  causes  which 
gave  birth  to  the  book,  determined  its  scene  and  its 
general  character.  The  former  was  laid  in  a foreign 
country  ; and  the  latter  embraced  a crude  effort  to  de- 
scribe foreign  manners.  When  this  tale  was  published, 
it  became  matter  of  reproach  among  the  author’s  friends, 
that  he,  an  American  in  heart  as  in  birth,  should  give 
to  the  world  a work  which  aided  perhaps,  in  some 
slight  degree,  to  feed  the  imaginations  of  the  young  and 
unpractised  among  his  own  countrymen,  by  pictures 
drawn  from  a state  of  society  so  different  from  that  to 
which  he  belonged.  The  writer,  while  he  knew  how 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


much  of  what  he  had  done  was  purely  accidental,  felt 
the  reproach  to  be  one  that,  in  a measure,  was  just. 
As  the  only  atonement  in  his  power,  he  determined  to 
inflict  a second  book,  whose  subject  should  admit  of  no 
cavil,  not  only  on  the  world,  but  on  himself.  He  chose 
patriotism  for  his  theme  ; and  to  those  who  read  this 
introduction  and  the  book  itself,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  add,  that  he  took  the  hero  of  the  anecdote  just  related 
as  the  best  illustration  of  his  subject. 

Since  the  original  publication  of  “ The  Spy,”  there 
have  appeared  several  accounts  of  different  persons  who 
are  supposed  to  have  been  in  the  author’s  mind  while 

writing  the  book.  As  Mr. did  not  mention  the 

name  of  his  agent,  the  writer  never  knew  any  more  of 
his  identity  with  this  or  that  individual,  than  has  been 
here  explained.  Both  Washington  and  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  had  an  unusual  number  of  secret  emissaries  ; in 
a war  that  partook  so  much  of  a domestic  character, 
and  in  which  the  contending  parties  were  people  of  the 
same  blood  and  language,  it  could  scarcely  be  otherwise. 

The  style  of  the  book  has  been  revised  by  the  author 
in  this  edition.  In  this  respect,  he  has  endeavored  to 
make  it  more  worthy  of  the  favor  with  which  it  has 
been  received ; though  he  is  compelled  to  admit  there 
are  faults  so  interwoven  with  the  structure  of  the  tale 
that,  as  in  the  case  of  a decayed  edifice,  it  would  cost 
perhaps  less  to  reconstruct  than  to  repair.  Five- an d- 
twenty  years  have  been  as  ages  with  most  things  con- 
nected with  America.  Among  other  advances,  that  of 
her  literature  has  not  been  the  least.  So  little  was  ex- 


INTRODUCTION. 


XI 


pected  from  the  publication  of  an  original  work  of  this 
description,  at  the  time  it  was  written,  that  the  first 
volume  of  “ The  Spy”  was  actually  printed  several 
months,  before  the  author  felt  a sufficient  inducement 
to  write  a line  of  the  second.  The  efforts  expended  on 
a hopeless  task  are  rarely  worthy  of  him  who  makes 
them,  however  low  it  may  be  necessary  to  rate  the 
standard  of  his  general  merit. 

One  other  anecdote  connected  with  the  history  of 
this  book,  may  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  hopes 
of  an  American  author,  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  pres- 
ent century.  As  the  second  volume  was  slowly  print- 
ing, from  manuscript  that  was  barely  dry  wdien  it  went 
into  the  compositor’s  hands,  the  publisher  intimated 
that  the  work  might  grow  to  a length  that  would  con- 
sume the  profits.  To  set  his  mind  at  rest,  the  last 
chapter  was  actually  written,  printed  and  paged,  sev- 
eral weeks  before  the  chapters  which  precede  it  were 
even  thought  of.  This  circumstance,  while  it  cannot 
excuse,  may  serve  to  explain  the  manner  in  which  the 
actors  are  hurried  off  the  scene. 

A great  change  has  come  over  the  country  since 
this  book  was  originally  written.  The  nation  is  passing 
from  the  gristle  into  the  bone,  and  the  common  mind 
is  beginning  to  keep  even  pace  with  the  growth  of  the 
body  politic.  The  march  from  Yera  Cruz  to  Mexico 
was  made  under  the  orders  of  that  gallant  soldier  who, 
a quarter  of  a century  before,  was  mentioned  with 
honor,  in  the  last  chapter  of  this  very  book.  Glorious 
as  was  that  march,  and  brilliant  as  were  its  results  in 


xii 


INTRODUCTION. 


a military  point  of  view,  a stride  was  then  made  by 
the  nation,  in  a moral  sense,  that  has  hastened  it  by  an 
age,  in  its  progress  toward  real  independence  and  high 
political  influence.  The  guns  that  filled  the  valley 
of  the  Aztecs  with  their  thunder,  have  been  heard  in 
echoes  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  producing 
equally  hope  or  apprehension. 

There  is  now  no  enemy  to  fear,  but  the  one  that  re- 
sides within.  By  accustoming  ourselves  to  regard  even 
the  people  as  erring  beings,  and  by  using  the  restraints 
that  wfisdom  has  adduced  from  experience,  there  is 
much  reason  to  hope  that  the  same  Providence  which 
has  so  well  aided  us  in  our  infancy,  may  continue  to 
smile  on  our  manhood. 

Cooperstown,  March  29,  ] 849. 


THE  SPY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

And  though  amidst  the  calm  of  thought  entire, 

Some  high  and  haughty  features  might  betray 
A soul  impetuous  once  — 'twas  earthly  fire 
That  fled  composure’s  intellectual  ray, 

As  Etna’s  fires  grow  dim  before  the  rising  day. 

Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

[t  was  near  the  close  of  the  year  1780,  that  a solitary  traveller 
was  seen  pursuing  his  way  through  one  of  the  numerous  little  val- 
le}Ts  of  West-Chester.*  The  easterly  wind,  with  its  chilling  damp- 
ness and  increasing  violence,  gave  unerring  notice  of  the  approach 
of  a storm,  which  as  usual  might  be  expected  to  continue  for  several 
days : and  the  experienced  eye  of  the  traveller  was  turned  in  vain, 
through  the  darkness  of  the  evening,  in  quest  of  some  convenient 
shelter,  in  which,  for  the  term  of  his  confinement  by  the  rain  that 
already  began  to  mix  with  the  atmosphere  in  a thick  mist,  he  might 
obtain  such  accommodations  as  his  purposes  required.  Nothing 
however  offered  but  the  small  and  inconvenient  tenements  of  the 
lower  order  of  the  inhabitants,  with  whom,  in  that  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood, he  did  not  think  it  either  safe  or  politic  to  trust  himself. 

* As  each  state  of  the  American  Union  has  its  own  counties,  it  often  hap- 
pens that  there  are  several  which  bear  the  same  name.  The  scene  of  this 
tale  is  in  New  York,  whose  county  of  West-Chester  is  the  nearest  adjoining 
to  the  city. 


12 


THE  SPY. 


The  county  of  West-Chester,  after  the  British  had  obtained  pos- 
session of  the  island  of  New  York,*  became  common  ground,  in 
which  both  parties  continued  to  act  for  the  remainder  of  the  war  of 
the  revolution.  A large  proportion  of  its  inhabitants,  either 
restrained  by  their  attachments,  or  influenced  by  their  fears,  affected 
a neutrality  they  did  not  feel.  The  lower  towns  were,  of  course, 
more  particularly  under  the  dominion  of  the  crown,  while  the  upper, 
finding  a security  from  the  vicinity  of  the  continental  troops,  were 
bold  in  asserting  their  revolutionary  opinions,  and  their  right  to 
govern  themselves.  Great  numbers,  however,  wore  masks,  which 
even  to  this  day  have  not  been  thrown  aside ; and  many  an  indivi- 
dual has  gone  down  to  the  tomb,  stigmatised  as  a foe  to  the  rights 
of  his  countrymen,  while,  in  secret,  he  has  been  the  useful  agent 
of  the  leaders  of  the  revolution ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  could  the 
hidden  repositories  of  divers  flaming  patriots  have  been  opened  to 
the  light  of  day,  royal  protections  would  have  been  discovered  con- 
cealed under  piles  of  British  gold. 

At  the  sound  of  the  tread  of  the  noble  horse  ridden  by  the  tra- 
veller, the  mistress  of  the  farm-house  he  was  passing  at  the  time 
might  be  seen  cautiously  opening  the  door  of  the  building  to 
examine  the  stranger;  and  perhaps,  with  an  averted  face,  communi- 
cating the  result  of  her  observations  to  her  husband,  who,  in  the 
rear  of  the  building,  was  prepared  to  seek,  if  necessary,  his  ordinary 
place  of  concealment  in  the  adjacent  woods.  The  valley  was  situ- 
ated about  mid-way  in  the  length  of  the  county,  and  was  sufficiently 

* The  city  of  New  York  is  situate  on  an  island  called  Manhattan  ; but  it 
is,  at  one  point,  separated  from  the  county  of  West- Chester  by  a creek  of  only 
a few  feet  in  width.  The  bridge  at  this  spot  is  called  King’s  Bridge.  It 
was  the  scene  of  many  skirmishes  during  the  war,  and  is  alluded  to  in  this, 
tale.  Every  Manhattanese  knows  the  difference  between  ‘"Manhattan 
Island”  and  “ the  island  of  Manhattan.”  The  first  is  applied  to  a small  dis- 
trict in  the  vicinity  of  Corlaer’s  Hook,  while  the  last  embraces  the  whole 
island;  or  the  city  and  county  of  New  York,  as  it  is  termed  in  the  laws. 


T HE  S P v . 


13 


near  to  both  armies  to  make  the  restitution  of  stolen  goods  no  un- 
common occurrence  in  that  vicinity.  It  is  true,  the  same  articles 
were  not  always  regained ; but  a summary  substitute  was  generally 
resorted  to,  in  the  absence  of  legal  justice,  which  restored  to  the 
loser  the  amount  of  his  loss,  and  frequently  with  no  inconsiderable 
addition  for  the  temporary  use  of  his  property.  In  short,  the  law 
was  momentarily  extinct  in  that  particular  district,  and  justice  was 
administered  subject  to  the  bias  of  personal  interests,  and  the  pas- 
sions of  the  strongest. 

The  passage  of  a stranger,  with  an  appearance  of  somewhat 
doubtful  character,  and  mounted  on  an  animal  which,  although 
unfurnished  with  any  of  the  ordinary  trappings  of  war,  partook 
largely  of  the  bold  and  upright  carriage  that  distinguished  his  rider, 
gave  rise  to  many  surmises  among  the  gazing  inmates  of  the  different 
habitations ; and  in  some  instances,  where  conscience  was  more  than 
ordinarily  awake,  to  no  little  alarm. 

Tired  with  the  exercise  of  a day  of  unusual  fatigue,  and  anxious 
to  obtain  a speed}^  shelter  from  the  increasing  violence  of  the  storm, 
that  now  began  to  change  its  character  to  large  drops  of  driving 
rain,  the  traveller  determined,  as  a matter  of  necessity,  to  make  an 
application  for  admission  to  the  next  dwelling  that  offered.  An 
opportunity  was  not  long  wanting;  and,  riding  through  a pair  of 
neglected  bars,  he  knocked  loudly  at  the  outer  door  of  a building, 
of  a very  humble  exterior,  without  quitting  his  saddle.  A female 
of  middle  age,  with  an  outward  bearing  but  little  more  prepossessin  g 
than  that  of  her  dwelling,  appeared  to  answer  the  summons.  The 
startled  woman  half  closed  her  door  again  in  affright,  as  she  saw,  by 
the  glare  of  a large  wood  fire,  a mounted  man  so  unexpectedly  near 
its  threshold;  and  an  expression  of  terror  mingled  with  her  natural 
curiosity,  as  she  required  his  pleasure. 

Although  the  door  was  too  nearly  closed  to  admit  of  a minute 
scrutiny  of  the  accommodations  within,  enough  had  been  seen  to 
sause  the  horseman  to  endeavour,  once  more,  to  penetrate  the  gloom, 


14 


THE  SPY. 


with  longing  eyes,  in  search  of  a more  promising  roof,  before,  with 
an  ill-concealed  reluctance,  he  stated  his  necessities  and  wishes.  His 
request  was  listened  to  with  evident  unwillingness,  and,  while  yet 
unfinished,  it  was  eagerly  interrupted  by  the  reply- — 

“ I can’t  say  I like  to  give  lodgings  to  a stranger  in  these  ticklish 
times,”  said  the  female  in  a pert  sharp  key;  “I’m  nothing  but  a for- 
lorn lone  body ; or,  what ’s  the  same  thing,  there ’s  nobody  but  the 
old  gentleman  at  home;  but  a half  mile  further  up  the  road  is  a 
house  where  you  can  get  entertainment,  and  that  for  nothing.  I am 
sure  ’t  will  be  much  convenienter  to  them,  and  more  agreeable  to 
me ; because,  as  I said  before,  Harvey  is  away — I wish  he  ’d  take 
advice,  and  leave  off  wandering ; he ’s  well  to  do  in  the  world,  by 
this  time ; and  he  ought  to  leave  off  his  uncertain  courses,  and  settle 
himself,  handsomely,  in  life,  like  other  men  of  his  years  and  pro- 
perty. But  Harvey  Birch  will  have  his  own  way,  and  die  vagabond 
after  all !” 

The  horseman  did  not  wait  to  hear  more  than  the  advice  to  pursue 
his  course  up  the  road ; but  he  had  slowly  turned  his  horse  towards 
the  bars,  and  was  gathering  the  folds  of  an  ample  cloak  around  his 
manly  form,  preparatory  to  facing  the  storm  again,  when  something 
in  the  speech  of  the  female  suddenly  arrested  the  movement. 

“ Is  this,  then,  the  dwelling  of  Harvey  Birch  ?”  he  enquired,  in 
an  involuntary  manner,  apparently  checking  himself,  as  he  was  about 
to  utter  more. 

“ Why,  one  can  hardly  say  it  is  his  dwelling,”  replied  the  other, 
drawing  a hurried  breath,  like  one  eager  to  answer ; “he  is  never  in 
it,  or  so  seldom,  that  I hardly  remember  his  face,  when  he  does 
think  it  worth  his  while  to  show  it  to  his  poor  old  father  and  me. 
But  it  matters  little  to  me,  I ’in  sure,  if  he  ever  comes  back  again, 
or  not; — turn  in  the  first  gate  on  your  left;- — no,  I care  but  little, 
for  my  part,  whether  Harvey  ever  shows  his  face  again  or  not — not 
I — and  she  closed  the  door  abruptly  on  the  horseman,  who  gladly 


THE  SPY. 


15 


extended  his  ride  a half  mile  further,  to  obtain  lodgings  which  pro- 
mised both  more  comfort  and  greater  security. 

Sufficient  light  yet  remained  to  enable  the  traveller  to  distinguish 
the  improvements*  which  had  been  made  in  the  cultivation,  and  in 
the  general  appearance  of  the  grounds  around  the  building  to  which 
he  was  now  approaching.  The  house  was  of  stone,  long,  low,  and 
with  a small  wing  at  each  extremity.  A piazza,  extending  along 
the  front,  with  neatly  turned  pillars  of  wood,  together  with  the  good 
order  and  preservation  of  the  fences  and  out-buildings,  gave  the 
place  an  air  altogether  superior  to  the  common  farm-houses  of  the 
country.  After  leading  his  horse  behind  an  angle  of  the  wall,  where 
it  was  in  some  degree  protected  from  the  wind  and  rain,  the  traveller 
threw  his  vallise  over  his  arm,  and  knocked  loudly  at  the  entrance 
of  the  building  for  admission.  An  aged  black  soon  appeared ; and 
without  seeming  to  think  it  necessary,  under  the  circumstances,  to 
consult  his  superiors — first  taking  one  prying  look  at  the  applicant, 
by  the  light  of  the  candle  in  his  hand — he  acceded  to  the  request 
for  accommodations.  The  traveller  was  shown  into  an  extremely 
neat  parlour,  where  a fire  had  been  lighted  to  cheer  the  dulness 
of  an  easterly  storm,  and  an  October  evening.  After  giving  the 
vallise  into  the  keeping  of  his  civil  attendant,  and  politely  repeating 
his  request  to  the  old  gentleman,  who  arose  to  receive  him,  and 
paying  his  compliments  to  the  three  ladies  who  were  seated  at  work 
with  their  needles,  the  stranger  commenced  laying  aside  some  of  the 
outer  garments  which  he  had  worn  in  his  ride. 

On  taking  an  extra  handkerchief  from  his  neck,  and  removing  a 
cloak  of  blue  cloth,  with  a surtout  of  the  same  material,  he  exhibited 
to  the  scrutiny  of  the  observant  family  party,  a tall  and  extremely 
graceful  person,  of  apparently  fifty  years  of  age. — His  countenance 

* Improvements  is  used  by  the  Americans  to  express  every  degree  of 
change  in  converting  land  from  its  state  of  wilderness  to  that  of  cultivation 
In  this  meaning  of  the  word,  it  is  an  improvement  to  fell  the  trees ; and  it 
.s  valued  precisely  by  the  supposed  amount  of  the  cost. 


16 


THE  SPY. 


evinced  a settled  composure  and  dignity;  his  cose  was  straight,  and 
approaching  to  Grecian;  his  eye,  of  a grey  colour,  was  quiet, 
thoughtful,  and  rather  melancholy ; the  mouth  and  lower  part  of  his 
face  being  expressive  of  decision  and  much  character.  His  dress, 
being  suited  to  the  road,  was  simple  and  plain,  but  such  as  was  worn 
by  the  higher  class  of  his  countrymen ; he  wore  his  own  hair,  dressed 
in  a manner  that  gave  a military  air  to  his  appearance,  and  which 
was  rather  heightened  by  his  erect  and  conspicuously  graceful  car- 
riage. His  whole  appearance  was  so  impressive  and  so  decidedly 
that  of  a gentleman,  that  as  he  finished  laying  aside  the  garments, 
the  ladies  arose  from  their  seats,  and,  together  with  the  master  of 
the  house,  they  received  anew,  and  returned  the  complimentary 
greetings  which  were  again  offered. 

The  host  was  by  several  years  the  senior  of  the  traveller,  and  by 
his  manner,  dress,  and  every  thing  around  him,  showed  he  had  seen 
much  of  life  and  the  best  society.  The  ladies  were,  a maiden  of 
forty,  and  two  much  younger,  who  did  not  seem,  indeed,  to  have 
reached  half  those  years.  The  bloom  of  the  elder  of  these  ladies 
had  vanished,  but  her  eyes  and  fine  hair  gave  an  extremely  agreeable 
expression  to  her  countenance ; and  there  was  a softness  and  an  affa- 
bility in  her  deportment,  that  added  a charm  many  more  juvenile 
faces  do  not  possess.  The  sisters,  for  such  the  resemblance  between 
the  younger  females  denoted  them  to  be,  were  in  all  the  pride  of 
youth,  and  the  roses,  so  eminently  the  property  of  the  West-Chester 
fair,  glowed  on  their  cheeks,  and  lighted  their  deep  blue  eyes  with 
that  lustre  which  gives  so  much  pleasure  to  the  beholder,  and  which 
indicates  so  much  internal  innocence  and  peace.  There  was  much 
of  that  feminine  delicacy  in  the  appearance  of  the  three,  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  sex  in  this  country;  and,  like  the  gentleman,  their 
demeanour  proved  them  to  be  women  of  the  higher  order  of  life. 

After  handing  a glass  of  excellent  Madeira  to  his  guest,  Mr. 
Wharton,  for  so  was  the  owner  of  this  retired  estate  called,  resumed 
ais  seat  by  the  fire,  with  another  in  his  own  hand.  For  a moment 


T IIE  SPY. 


17 


he  paused,  as  if  debating  with  his  politeness,  but  at  length  threw  an 
enquiring  glance  on  the  stranger,  as  he  enquired — 

“ To  whose  health  am  I to  have  the  honour  of  drinking  ?” 

The  traveller  had  also  seated  himself,  and  he  sat  unconsciously 
gazing  on  the  fire,  while  Mr.  Wharton  spoke ; turning  his  eyes 
slowly  on  his  host  with  a look  of  close  observation,  he  replied,  while 
a faint  tinge  gathered  on  his  features — 

“ Mr.  Harper.” 

u Mr.  Harper,”  resumed  the  other,  with  the  formal  precision  of 
that  day,  u I have  the  honour  to  drink  your  health,  and  to  hope  you 
will  sustain  no  injury  from  the  rain  to  which  you  have  been 
exposed.” 

Mr.  Harper  bowed  in  silence  to  the  compliment,  and  he  soon 
resumed  the  meditations  from  which  he  had  been  interrupted,  and 
for  which  the  long  ride  he  had  that  day  made,  in  the  wind,  might 
seem  a very  natural  apology. 

The  young  ladies  had  again  taken  their  seats  beside  the  work- 
stand,  while  their  aunt,  Miss  Jeanette  Peyton,  withdrew,  to  super- 
intend the  preparations  necessary  to  appease  the  hunger  of  their 
unexpected  visiter.  A short  silence  prevailed,  during  which  Mr. 
Harper  was  apparently  enjoying  the  change  in  his  situation,  when 
Mr.  Wharton  again  broke  it,  by  enquiring  whether  smoke  was  disa- 
greeable to  his  companion;  to  which,  receiving  an  answer  in  the 
negative,  he  immediately  resumed  the  pipe  which  had  been  laid 
aside  at  the  entrance  of  the  traveller. 

There  was  an  evident  desire  on  the  part  of  the  host  to  enter  into 
conversation,  but  either  from  an  apprehension  of  treading  on  dan- 
gerous ground,  or  an  unwillingness  to  intrude  upon  the  rather  studied 
taciturnity  of  his  guest,  he  several  times  hesitated,  before  he  could 
venture  to  make  any  further  remark.  At  length,  a movement  from 
Mr.  Harper,  as  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  party  in  the  room,  encou- 
raged him  to  proceed. 

“ I find  it  very  difficult,”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  cautiously  avoiding, 


18 


THE  S P Y . 


at  first,  such  subjects  as  he  wished  to  introduce,  “ to  procure  that 
quality  of  tobacco  for  my  evenings’  amusement,  to  which  I have 
been  accustomed.” 

“ I should  think  the  shops  in  New  York  might  furnish  the  best 
in  the  country,”  calmly  rejoined  the  other. 

“ Why — yes,”  returned  the  host,  in  rather  a hesitating  manner, 
lifting  his  eyes  to  the  face  of  Harper,  and  lowering  them  quickly 
under  his  steady  look,  “ there  must  be  plenty  in  town ; but  the  war 
has  made  communication  with  the  city,  however  innocent,  too  dan- 
gerous to  be  risked  for  so  trifling  an  article  as  tobacco.” 

The  box  from  which  Mr.  Wharton  had  just  taken  a supply  for 
his  pipe  was  lying  open,  within  a few  inches  of  the  elbow  of  Harper, 
who  took  a small  quantity  from  its  contents,  and  applied  it  to  his 
tongue,  in  a manner  perfectly  natural,  but  one  that  filled  his  compa- 
nion with  alarm.  Without,  however,  observing  that  the  quality 
was  of  the  most  approved  kind,  the  traveller  relieved  his  host  by 
relapsing  again  into  his  meditations.  Mr.  Wharton  now  felt  unwil- 
ling to  lose  the  advantage  he  had  gained,  and,  making  an  effort  of 
more  than  usual  vigour,  he  continued — 

“ I wish,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  this  unnatural  struggle 
was  over,  that  we  might  again  meet  our  friends  and  relatives  in 
peace  and  love.” 

“It  is  much  to  be  desired,”  said  Harper,  emphatically,  again 
raising  his  eyes  to  the  countenance  of  his  host. 

“ I hear  of  no  movement  of  consequence,  since  the  arrival  of  our 
new  allies,”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  shaking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe, 
and  turning  his  back  to  the  other,  under  the  pretence  of  receiving  * 
coal  from  his  youngest  daughter. 

“None  have  yet  reached  the  public,  I believe.” 

“ Is  it  thought  any  important  steps  are  about  to  be  taken  ?”  con- 
tinued Mr.  Wharton,  still  occupied  with  his  daughter,  yet  uncon- 
sciously suspending  his  employment,  in  expectation  of  a reply. 

“ Is  it  intimated  any  are  in  agitation  ?” 


T HE  S P Y . 


19 


u Oh ! nothiDg  in  particular ; but  it  is  natural  to  expect  some 
new  enterprise  from  so  powerful  a force  as  that  under  Bochambeau.” 

Harper  made  an  assenting  inclination  with  his  head,  but  no  other 
reply,  to  this  remark ; while  Mr.  Wharton,  after  lighting  his  pipe, 
resumed  the  subject. 

“ They  appear  more  active  in  the  south ; Gates  and  Cornwallis 
seem  willing  to  bring  the  war  to  an  issue,  there.” 

The  brow  of  Harper  contracted,  and  a deeper  shade  of  melan- 
choly crossed  his  features ; his  eye  kindled  with  a transient  beam 
of  fire,  that  spoke  a latent  source  of  deep  feeling.  The  admiring 
gaze  of  the  younger  of  the  sisters  had  barely  time  to  read  its  expres- 
sion, before  it  passed  away,  leaving  in  its  room  the  acquired  compo- 
sure which  marked  the  countenance  of  the  stranger,  and  that  im- 
pressive dignity  which  so  conspicuously  denotes  the  empire  of 
reason. 

The  elder  sister  made  one  or  two  movements  in  her  chair,  before 
she  ventured  to  say,  in  a tone  which  partook  in  no  small  measure 
of  triumph — 

u General  Gates  has  been  less  fortunate  with  the  Earl,  than  with 
General  Burgoyne.” 

“ But  General  Gates  is  an  Englishman,  Sarah,”  cried  the  younger 
lady,  with  quickness;  then,  colouring  to  the  eyes  at  her  own  bold- 
ness, she  employed  herself  in  tumbling  over  the  contents  of  her 
work-basket,  silently  hoping  the  remark  would  be  unnoticed. 

The  traveller  had  turned  his  face  from  one  sister  to  the  other,  as 
Ihey  had  spoken  in  succession,  and  an  almost  imperceptible  move- 
ment of  the  muscles  of  his  mouth  betrayed  a new  emotion,  as  he 
playfully  enquired  of  the  younger — 

“ May  I venture  to  ask,  what  inference  you  would  draw  from  that 
fact?” 

Frances  blushed  yet  deeper  at  this  direct  appeal  to  her  opinions 
upon  a subject  on  which  she  had  incautiously  spoken  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a stranger;  but,  finding  an  answer  necessary,  after  some 


20 


THE  SPY* 


little  hesitation,  and  with  a good  deal  of  stammering  in  her  manner, 
she  replied — 

u Only — only — sir — my  sister  and  myself  sometimes  differ  in  our 
opinions  of  the  prowess  of  the  British.”  A smile  of  much  meaning 
played  on  a face  of  infantile  innocency,  as  she  concluded. 

“ On  what  particular  points  of  their  prowess  do  you  differ  ?”  con- 
tinued Harper,  meeting  her  look  of  animation  with  a smile  of  almost 
paternal  softness. 

“ Sarah  thinks  the  British  are  never  beaten,  while  I do  not  put 
so  much  faith  in  their  invincibility.” 

The  traveller  listened  to  her  with  that  pleased  indulgence,  with 
which  virtuous  age  loves  to  contemplate  the  ardour  of  youthful  in- 
nocence ; but  making  no  reply,  he  turned  to  the  fire,  and  continued 
for  some  time  gazing  on  its  embers,  in  silence. 

Mr.  Wharton  had  in  vain  endeavoured  to  pierce  the  disguise  of 
his  guest’s  political  feelings;  but,  while  there  was  nothing  forbid- 
ding in  his  countenance,  there  was  nothing  communicative ; on  the 
contrary,  it  was  strikingly  reserved ; and  the  master  of  the  house 
arose,  in  profound  ignorance  of  what,  in  those  days,  was  the  most 
material  point  in  the  character  of  his  guest,  to  lead  the  way  into 
another  room,  and  to  the  supper  table.  Mr.  Harper  offered  his 
hand  to  Sarah  Wharton,  and  they  entered  the  room  together;  while 
Frances  followed,  greatly  at  a loss  to  know,  whether  she  had  not 
wounded  the  feelings  of  her  father’s  inmate. 

The  storm  began  to  rage  with  great  violence  without;  and  the 
dashing  rain  on  the  sides  of  the  building  awakened  that  silent  sense 
of  enjoyment,  which  is  excited  by  such  sounds  in  a room  of  quiet 
comfort  and  warmth,  when  a loud  summons  at  the  outer  door  again 
called  the  faithful  black  to  the  portal.  In  a minute  the  servant 
returned,  and  informed  his  master  that  another  traveller,  overtaken 
by  the  storm,  desired  to  be  admitted  to  the  house  for  a shelter 
through  the  night. 

At  the  first  sounds  of  the  impatient  summons  of  this  new  appli- 


THE  SPY, 


21 


cant,  Mr.  Wharton  had  risen  from  his  seat  in  evident  uneasiness; 
and,  with  eyes  glancing  with  quickness  from  his  guest  to  the  dooi 
of  the  room,  he  seemed  to  be  expecting  something  to  proceed  from 
this  second  interruption,  connected  with  the  stranger  who  had  occa- 
sioned the  first.  He  scarcely  had  time  to  bid  the  black,  with  a faint 
voice,  to  show  this  second  comer  in,  before  the  door  was  thrown 
hastily  open,  and  the  stranger  himself  entered  the  apartment.  He 
paused  a moment,  as  the  person  of  Harper  met  his  view,  and  then, 
in  a more  formal  manner,  repeated  the  request  he  had  before  made 
through  the  servant.  Mr.  Wharton  and  his  family  disliked  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  new  visitor  excessively ; but  the  inclemency  of  the 
weather,  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  consequences,  if  he  were  refused 
the  desired  lodgings,  compelled  the  old  gentleman  to  give  a reluctant 
acquiescence. 

Some  of  the  dishes  were  replaced  by  the  orders  of  Miss  Peyton, 
and  the  weather-beaten  intruder  was  invited  to  partake  of  the  re- 
mains of  the  repast,  from  which  the  party  had  just  risen.  Throwing 
aside  a rough  great-coat,  he  very  composedly  took  the  offered  chair, 
and  unceremoniously  proceeded  to  allay  the  cravings  of  an  appetite, 
which  appeared  by  no  means  delicate.  But  at  every  mouthful  he 
would  turn  an  unquiet  eye  on  Harper,  who  studied  his  appearance 
with  a closeness  of  investigation,  that  was  very  embarrassing  to  its 
subject.  At  length,  pouring  out  a glass  of  wine,  the  new  comer 
nodded  significantly  to  his  examiner,  previously  to  swallowing  the 
liquor,  and  said,  with  something  of  bitterness  in  his  manner — 

“I  drink  to  our  better  acquaintance,  sir;  I believe  this  is  the 
first  time  we  have  met,  though  your  attention  would  seem  to  say 
otherwise.” 

The  quality  of  the  wine  seemed  greatly  to  his  fancy,  for,  on  re- 
placing the  glass  upon  the  table,  he  gave  his  lips  a smack,  that 
resounded  through  the  room ; and,  taking  up  the  bottle,  he  held  it 
between  himself  and  the  light,  for  a moment,  in  silent  contemplation 
of  its  clear  and  brilliant  colour. 


22 


THE  S P Y . 


“ I think  we  have  never  met  before,  sir,”  replied  Harper,  with  a 
slight  smile  on  his  features,  as  he  observed  the  movements  of  the 
other ; but  appearing  satisfied  with  his  scrutiny,  he  turned  to  Sarah 
Wharton,  who  sat  next  him,  and  carelessly  remarked  — 

“You,  doubtless,  find  your  present  abode  solitary^  after  being 
accustomed  to  the  gay e ties  of  the  city.” 

“ Oh ! excessively  so,”  said  Sarah,  hastily.  “ I do  wish,  with 
my  father,  that  this  cruel  war  was  at  an  end,  that  we  might  return 
to  our  friends  once  more.” 

“ And  you,  Miss  Frances,  do  you  long  as  ardently  for  peace  as 
your  sister?” 

“On  many  accounts  I certainly  do,”  returned  the  other,  ven- 
turing to  steal  a timid  glance  at  her  interrogator ; and,  meeting  the 
same  benevolent  expression  of  feeling  as  before,  she  continued,  as 
her  own  face  lighted  into  one  of  its  animated  and  bright  smiles  of 
intelligence,  “but  not  at  the  expense  of  the  rights  of  my  coun- 
trymen.” 

“Eights!”  repeated  her  sister,  impatiently;  “whose  rights  can 
be  stronger  than  those  of  a sovereign;  and  what  duty  is  clearer, 
than  to  obey  those  who  have  a natural  right  to  command  ?” 

“None,  certainly,”  said  Frances,  laughing  with  great  pleasantry; 
and,  taking  the  hand  of  her  sister  affectionately  within  both  of  her 
own,  she  added,  with  a smile  directed  towards  Harper  — 

“ I gave  you  to  understand,  that  my  sister  and  myself  differed  in 
our  political  opinions;  but  we  have  an  impartial  umpire  in  my 
father,  who  loves  his  own  countrymen,  and  he  loves  the  British, — 
so  he  takes  sides  with  neither.” 

“ Yes,”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  in  a little  alarm,  eyeing  first  one 
guest,  and  then  the  other;  “I  have  near  friends  in  both  armies, 
and  I dread  a victory  by  either,  as  a source  of  certain  private  mis- 
fortune.” 

“ T take  it,  you  have  little  reason  to  apprehend  much  from  the 


T HE  SPY. 


23 


Yankees,  in  that  way;”  interrupted  the  guest  at  the  table,  coolly 
helping  himself  to  another  glass,  from  the  bottle  he  had  admired. 

“ His  Majesty  may  have  more  experienced  troops  than  the  con- 
tinentals,” answered  the  host  fearfully,  “but  the  Americans  have 
met  with  distinguished  success.” 

Harper  disregarded  the  observations  of  both;  and,  rising,  he 
desired  to  be  shown  to  his  place  of  rest.  A small  boy  was  directed 
to  guide  him  to  his  room ; and  wishing  a courteous  good-night  to 
the  whole  party,  the  traveller  withdrew.  The  knife  and  fork  fell 
from  the  hands  of  the  unwelcome  intruder,  as  the  door  closed  on 
the  retiring  figure  of  Harper ; — he  arose  slowly  from  his  seat ; — 
listening  attentively,  he  approached  the  door  of  the  room  — opened 
it  — seemed  to  attend  to  the  retreating  footsteps  of  the  other  — 
and,  amidst  the  panic  and  astonishment  of  his  companions,  he  closed 
it  again.  In  an  instant,  the  red  wig  which  concealed  his  black 
locks,  the  large  patch,  which  hid  half  his  face  from  observation,  the 
stoop,  that  had  made  him  appear  fifty  years  of  age,  disappeared. 

“ My  father ! — my  dear  father !”  — cried  the  handsome  young 
man;  “and  you,  my  dearest  sisters  and  aunt!  — have  I at  last 
met  you,  again?” 

“ Heaven  bless  you,  my  Henry,  my  son !”  exclaimed  the  aston- 
ished, but  delighted  parent;  while  his  sisters  sunk  on  his  shoulders, 
dissolved  in  tears. 

The  faithful  old  black,  who  had  been  reared  from  infancy  in  the 
house  of  his  master,  and  who,  as  if  in  mockery  of  his  degraded 
state,  had  been  complimented  with  the  name  of  Caesar,  was  the 
only  other  witness  of  this  unexpected  discovery  of  the  son  of  Mr. 
Wharton.  After  receiving  the  extended  hand  of  his  young  master, 
and  imprinting  on  it  a fervent  kiss,  Caesar  withdrew.  The  boy  did 
not  re-enter  the  room;  and  the  black  himself,  after  some  time, 
returned,  just  as  the  young  British  captain  was  exclaiming  — 

“ But  who  is  this  Mr.  Harper  ? — is  he  likely  to  betray  me  ?” 
“No  — no  — no  — Massa  Harry,”  cried  the  negro,  shaking  his 


24 


THE  SPY. 


grey  head  confidently;  “I  been  to  see  — Massa  Harper  on  he 
knee  - — pray  to  God  — no  gemman  who  pray  to  God,  tell  of  good 
son,  come  to  see  old  fader  — Skinner  do  that  — no  Christian 

This  poor  opinion  of  the  Skinners  was  not  confined  to  Mr.  Caesar 
Thompson,  as  he  called  himself — but  Caesar  Wharton,  as  he  was 
styled  by  the  little  world  to  which  he  was  known.  The  con- 
venience, and  perhaps  the  necessities,  of  the  leaders  of  the  American 
arms,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  New  York,  had  induced  them  to 
employ  certain  subordinate  agents,  of  extremely  irregular  habits,  in 
executing  their  lesser  plans  of  annoying  the  enemy.  It  was  not  a 
moment  for  fastidious  inquiries  into  abuses  of  any  description,  and 
oppression  and  injustice  were  the  natural  consequences  of  the  pos- 
session of  a military  power  that  was  uncurbed  by  the  restraints  of 
civil  authority.  In  time,  a distinct  order  of  the  community  was 
formed,  whose  sole  occupation  appears  to  have  been  that  of  relieving 
their  fellow-citizens  from  any  little  excess  of  temporal  prosperity 
they  might  be  thought  to  enjoy,  under  the  pretence  of  patriotism, 
and  the  love  of  liberty. 

Occasionally,  the  aid  of  military  authority  was  not  wanting,  in 
enforcing  these  arbitrary  distributions  of  worldly  goods;  and  a 
petty  holder  of  a commission  in  the  state  militia  was  to  be  seen  giv- 
ing the  sanction  of  something  like  legality  to  acts  of  the  most  unli- 
censed robbery,  and,  not  unfrequently,  of  bloodshed. 

On  the  part  of  the  British,  the  stimulus  of  loyalty  was  by  no 
means  suffered  to  sleep,  where  so  fruitful  a field  offered,  on  which  it 
might  be  expended.  But  their  freebooters  were  enrolled,  and  their 
efforts  more  systematised.  Long  experience  had  taught  their  leaders 
the  efficacy  of  concentrated  force ; and,  unless  tradition  does  great 
injustice  to  their  exploits,  the  result  did  no  little  credit  to  their  fore- 
sight. The  corps  — we  presume,  from  their  known  affection  to  that 
useful  animal  — had  received  the  quaint  appellation  of  6 Cow-Boys.; 

Csesar  was,  however,  far  too  loyal  to  associate  men,  who  held  the 
commission  of  George  III.,  with  the  irregular  warriors,  whose  ex- 


THE  SPY. 


cesses  he  had  so  often  witnessed,  and  from  whose  rapacity,  neither 
his  poverty  nor  his  bondage  had  suffered  even  him  to  escape  unin- 
jured. The  Cow-Boys,  therefore,  did  not  receive  their  proper  por- 
tion of  the  black’s  censure,  when  he  said,  no  Christian,  nothing  but 
a “ Skinner,”  could  betray  a pious  child,  while  Honouring  his  father 
with  a visit  so  full  of  peril 


CHAPTER  11. 


And  many  a halcyon  day  he  liv’d  to  see 
Unbroken,  but  by  one  misfortune  dire, 

When  fate  had  reft  his  mutual  heart— but  she 

Was  gone — and  Gertrude  climb’d  a widow’d  father’s  knee. 

Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

The  father  of  Mr.  Wharton  was  a native  of  England,  and  of  2 
family  whose  parliamentary  interest  had  enabled  them  to  provide  foi 
a younger  son  in  the  colony  of  New  York.  The  young  man,  like 
hundreds  of  others  in  his  situation,  had  settled  permanently  in  the 
country.  He  married ; and  the  sole  issue  of  his  connexion  had 
been  sent  early  in  life  to  receive  the  benefits  of  the  English  schools. 
After  taking  his  degrees  at  one  of  the  universities  of  the  mother 
country,  the  youth  had  been  suffered  to  acquire  a knowledge  of  life 
with  the  advantages  of  European  society.  But  the  death  of  his 
father  recalled  him,  after  passing  two  years  in  this  manner,  to  the 
possession  of  an  honourable  name,  and  a very  ample  estate. 

It  was  much  the  fashion  of  that  day  to  place  the  youth  of  certain 
families  in  the  army  or  navy  of  England,  as  the  regular  stepping- 
stones  to  preferment.  Most  of  the  higher  offices  in  the  colonies  were 
filled  by  men  who  had  made  arms  their  profession  ; and  it  was  even 
no  uncommon  sight  to  see  a veteran  warrior  laying  aside  the  sword 
to  assume  the  ermine  on  the  benches  of  the  highest  judicial 
authority. 

In  conformity  with  this  system,  the  senior  Mr.  Wharton  haa 
intended  his  son  for  a soldier ; but  a natural  imbecility  of  character 
in  his  child  interfered  with  his  wishes. 


T HE  STY. 


27 


A twelvemonth  had  been  spent  by  the  young  man  in  weighing  the 
comparative  advantages  of  the  different  classes  of  troops,  when  the 
death  of  his  father  occurred.  The  ease  of  his  situation,  and  the 
attentions  lavished  upon  a youth  in  the  actual  enjoyment  of  one  of 
the  largest  estates  in  the  colonies,  interfered  greatly  with  his  ambi- 
tious projects.  Love  decided  the  matter;  and  Mr.  Wharton,  in 
becoming  a husband,  ceased  to  think  of  becoming  a soldier.  For 
many  years  he  continued  happy  in  his  family,  and  sufficiently  re- 
spected by  his  countrymen,  as  a man  of  integrity  and  consequence, 
when  all  his  enjoyments  vanished,  as  it  were,  at  a blow.  His  only 
son,  the  youth  introduced  in  the  preceding  chapter,  had  entered  the 
army,  and  had  arrived  in  his  native  country,  but  a short  time  before 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  with  the  reinforcements  the  min- 
istry had  thought  it  prudent  to  throw  into  the  disaffected  parts  of 
North  America.  His  daughters  were  just  growing  into  life,  and 
their  education  required  all  the  advantages  the  city  could  afford. 
His  wife  had  been  for  some  years  in  declining  health,  and  had  barely 
time  to  fold  her  son  to  her  bosom,  and  rejoice  in  the  re-union  of  her 
family,  before  the  revolution  burst  forth,  in  a continued  blaze,  from 
Georgia  to  Massachusetts.  The  shock  was  too  much  for  the  feeble 
condition  of  the  mother,  who  saw  her  child  called  to  the  field  to 
combat  against  the  members  of  her  own  family  in  the  South,  and 
she  sunk  under  the  blow. 

There  was  no  part  of  the  continent  where  the  manners  of  Eng- 
land, and  its  aristocratical  notions  of  blood  and  alliances,  prevailed 
with  more  force,  than  in  a certain  circle  immediately  around  the  me- 
tropolis of  New  York.  The  customs  of  the  early  Dutch  inhabitants 
had,  indeed,  blended  in  some  measure  with  the  English  manners; 
but  still  the  latter  prevailed.  This  attachment  to  Great  Britain  was 
increased  by  the  frequent  intermarriages  of  the  officers  of  the  mother- 
country  with  the  wealthier  and  more  powerful  families  of  the  vicinity, 
until,  at  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  their  united  influence  had 
very  nearly  thrown  the  colony  into  the  scale  on  the  side  of  the  crown 


28 


THE  SPY. 


A few,  however,  of  the  leading  families  espoused  the  cause  of  the 
people ; and  a sufficient  stand  was  made  against  the  efforts  of  the 
ministerial  party,  to  organise,  and,  aided  by  the  army  of  the  con- 
federation, to  maintain,  an  independent  and  republican  form  of  gov- 
ernment. 

The  city  of  New-York  and  the  adjacent  territory  were  alone  ex- 
empted from  the  rule  of  the  new  commonwealth ; while  the  royal 
authority  extended  no  further  than  its  dignity  could  be  supported  by 
the  presence  of  an  army.  In  this  condition  of  things,  the  loyalists 
of  influence  adopted  such  measures  as  best  accorded  with  their  dif- 
ferent characters  and  situations.  Many  bore  arms  in  support  of  the 
crown,  and,  by  their  bravery  and  exertions,  endeavoured  to  secure 
what  they  deemed  to  be  the  rights  of  their  prince,  and  their  own 
estates,  from  the  effects  of  the  law  of  attainder.  Others  left  the 
country ; seeking  in  that  place  they  emphatically  called  home,  an 
asylum,  as  they  fondly  hoped,  for  a season  only,  against  the  confu- 
sion and  dangers  of  war.  A third,  and  a more  wary  portion,  re- 
mained in  the  place  of  their  nativity,  with  a prudent  regard  to  their 
ample  possessions,  and,  perhaps,  influenced  by  their  attachments  to 
the  scenes  of  their  youth.  Mr.  Wharton  was  of  this  description. 
After  making  a provision  against  future  contingencies,  by  secretly 
transmitting  the  whole  of  Ills  money  to  the  British  funds,  this  gen- 
tleman determined  to  continue  in  the  theatre  of  strife,  and  to  main- 
tain so  strict  a neutrality,  as  to  ensure  the  safety  of  his  large  estate, 
whichever  party  succeeded.  He  was  apparently  engrossed  in  the 
education  of  his  daughters,  when  a relation,  high  in  office  in  the  new 
state,  intimated,  that  a residence  in  what  was  now  a British  camp 
differed  but  little,  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen,  from  a residence  in 
the  British  capital.  Mr.  Wharton  soon  saw  this  was  an  unpardon- 
able offence  in  the  existing  state  of  things,  and  he  instantly  deter- 
mined to  remove  the  difficulty,  by  retiring  to  the  country.  He  pos- 
sessed a residence  in  the  county  of  West-Chester ; and  having  been 
for  many  years  in  the  habit  of  withdrawing  thither  during  the  heat? 


THE  SPY. 


29 


of  the  summer  months,  it  was  kept  furnished,  and  ready  for  his 
accommodation.  His  eldest  daughter  was  already  admitted  into  the 
society  of  women  ; but  Frances,  the  younger,  required  a year  or  two 
more  of  the  usual  cultivation,  to  appear  with  proper  eclat : at  least 
so  thought  Miss  Jeanette  Peyton ; and  as  this  lady,  a younger  sister 
of  their  deceased  mother,  had  left  her  paternal  home,  in  the  colony 
of  Virginia,  with  the  devotedness  and  affection  peculiar  to  her  sex, 
to  superintend  the  welfare  of  her  orphan  nieces,  Mr.  Wharton  felt 
that  her  opinions  were  entitled  to  respect.  In  conformity  to  her 
advice,  therefore,  the  feelings  of  the  parent  were  made  to  yield  to 
the  welfare  of  his  children. 

Mr.  Wharton  withdrew  to  the  u Locusts,”  with  a heart  rent  with 
the  pain  of  separating  from  all  that  was  left  him  of  a wife  he  had 
adored,  but  in  obedience  to  a constitutional  prudence  that  pleaded 
loudly  in  behalf  of  his  worldly  goods.  His  handsome  town  resi- 
dence was  inhabited,  in  the  mean  while,  by  his  daughters  and  their 
aunt.  The  regiment  to  which  Captain  Wharton  belonged  formed 
part  of  the  permanent  garrison  of  the  city ; and  the  knowledge  of 
the  presence  of  his  son  was  no  little  relief  to  the  father,  in  his  un- 
ceasing meditations  on  his  absent  daughters.  But  Captain  Wharton 
was  a young  man  and  a soldier ; his  estimate  of  character  was  not 
always  the  wisest;  and  his  propensities  led  him  to  imagine  that  a 
red  coat  never  concealed  a dishonourable  heart. 

The  house  of  Mr.  Wharton  became  a fashionable  lounge  to  the 
officers  of  the  royal  army,  as  did  that  of  every  other  family  that  was 
thought  worthy  of  their  notice.  The  consequences  of  this  associa- 
tion were,  to  some  few  of  the  visited,  fortunate ; to  more,  injurious, 
by  exciting  expectations  which  were  never  to  be  realized,  and, 
unhappily,  to  no  small  number  ruinous.  The  known  wealth  of  the 
father,  and,  possibly,  the  presence  of  a high-spirited  brother,  forbade 
any  apprehension  of  the  latter  danger  to  the  young  ladies : but  it 
was  impossible  that  all  the  admiration  bestowed  on  the  fine  figure 
and  lovely  face  of  Sarah  Wharton  should  be  thrown  rway.  Her 


30 


THE  SPY. 


person  was  formed  with  the  early  maturity  of  the  climate,  and  a 
strict  cultivation  of  the  graces  had  made  her,  decidedly,  the  belle 
of  the  city.  No  one  promised  to  dispute  with  her  this  female 
sovereignty,  unless  it  might  be  her  younger  sister.  Frances,  how- 
ever, wanted  some  months  to  the  charmed  age  of  sixteen ; and  the 
idea  of  competition  was  far  from  the  minds  of  either  of  the  affec- 
tionate girls.  Indeed,  next  to  the  conversation  of  Colonel  Wellmere, 
the  greatest  pleasure  of  Sarah  was  in  contemplating  the  budding 
beauties  of  the  little  Hebe,  who  played  around  her  with  all  the 
**cency  of  youth,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  her  ardent  temper, 
with  no  little  of  the  archness  of  her  native  humour.  Whether 
or  not  it  was  owing  to  the  fact  that  Frances  received  none  of  the 
compliments  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  her  elder  sister,  in  the  often 
repeated  discussions  on  the  merits  of  the  war,  between  the  military 
beaus  who  frequented  the  house,  it  is  certain  their  effects  on  the 
sisters  were  exactly  opposite.  It  was  much  the  fashion  then  for  the 
British  officers  to  speak  slightingly  of  their  enemies;  and  Sarah 
took  all  the  idle  vapouring  of  her  danglers  to  be  truths.  The  first 
political  opinions  which  reached  the  ears  of  Frances  were  coupled 
with  sneers  on  the  conduct  of  her  countrymen.  At  first  she 
believed  them;  but  there  was  occasionally  a general,  who  was 
obliged  to  do  justice  to  his  enemy  in  order  to  obtain  justice  for 
himself;  and  Frances  became  somewhat  skeptical  on  the  subject 
of  the  inefficiency  of  her  countrymen.  Colonel  Wellmere  was 
among  those  who  delighted  most  in  expending  his  wit  on  the  unfor- 
tunate Americans;  and,  in  time,  Frances  began  to  listen  to  his 
eloquence  with  great  suspicion,  and  sometimes  with  resentment. 

It  was  on  a hot  sultry  day,  that  the  three  were  in  the  parlour  of 
Mr.  Wharton’s  house,  the  Colonel  and  Sarah  seated  on  a sofa, 
engaged  in  a combat  of  the  eyes,  aided  by  the  usual  flow  of  small 
talk,  and  Frances  was  occupied  at  her  tambouring  frame,  in 
an  opposite  corner  of  the  room,  when  the  gentleman  suddenly 
exclaimed — 


THE  SPY. 


31 


“ Row  gay  the  arrival  of  the  army  under  General  Burgoyne  will 
make  the  city,  Miss  Wharton  !” 

“ Oh ! how  pleasant  it  must  be,”  said  the  thoughtless  Sarah,  in 
reply;  “I  am  told  there  are  many  charming  women  with  that 
army ; as  you  say,  it  will  make  us  all  life  and  gayety.” 

Frances  shook  back  the  abundance  of  her  golden  hair,  and  raised 
her  eyes,  dancing  with  the  ardour  of  national  feeling ; then  laugh- 
ing, with  a concealed  humour,  she  asked  — 

“Is  it  so  certain,  that  General  Burgoyne  will  be  permitted  to 
reach  the  city?” 

“ Permitted  !”  echoed  the  Colonel : “ who  is  there  to  prevent  it, 
my  pretty  Miss  Fanny?” 

Frances  was  precisely  at  that  age,  when  young  people  are  most 
jealous  of  their  station  in  society;  neither  quite  a woman,  nor  yet 
.a  child.  The  “pretty  Miss  Fanny”  was  too  familiar  to  be  relished, 
and  she  dropped  her  eyes  on  her  work  again,  with  cheeks  that 
glowed  like  crimson. 

“ General  Stark  took  the  Germans  into  custody,”  she  answered, 
compressing  her  lip ; — “ may  not  General  Gates  think  the  British 
too  dangerous  to  go  at  large  ?” 

“ Oh ! they  were  Germans,  as  you  say,”  cried  the  Colonel,  exces- 
sively vexed  at  the  necessity  of  explaining  at  all ; “ mere  mercenary 
troops ; but  when  the  really  British  regiments  come  in  question,  you 
will  see  a very  different  result.” 

“ Of  that  there  is  no  doubt,”  cried  Sarah,  without  in  the  least 
partaking  of  the  resentment  of  the  Colonel  to  her  sister,  but  hailing 
already  in  her  heart,  the  triumph  of  the  British. 

“Pray,  Colonel  Wellinere,”  said  Frances,  recovering  her  good 
humour,  and  raising  her  joyous  eyes  once  more  to  the  face  of  the 
gentleman,  “ was  the  Lord  Percy  of  Lexington,  a kinsman  of  him 
who  fought  at  Chevy  Chase  ?” 

“ Why,  Miss  Fanny,  you  are  becoming  a rebel,”  said  the  Colonel, 
endeavouring  to  laugh  away  the  anger  he  felt;  “ what  you  are  pleased 


32 


THE  S V Y . 


to  insinuate  was  a chase  at  Lexington,  was  nothing  more  than  a judi 
cious  retreat  — a — kind  of — ” 

“ Running  fight,”  interrupted  the  good-humoured  girl,  laying 
great  emphasis  on  the  first  word. 

“ Positively,  young  lady — ” Colonel  Wellmere  was  interrupted  by 
a laugh  from  a person  who  had  hitherto  been  unnoticed. 

There  was  a small  family  apartment,  adjoining  the  room  occupied 
by  the  trio,  and  the  air  had  blown  open  the  door  communicating 
between  the  two.  A fine  young  man  was  now  seen  sitting  near  the 
entrance,  who,  by  his  smiling  countenance,  was  evidently  a pleased 
listener  to  the  conversation.  He  rose  instantly,  and  coming  through 
the  door,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  appeared  a tall  graceful  youth, 
of  dark  complexion,  and  sparkling  eyes  of  black,  from  which  the 
mirth  had  not  yet  entirely  vanished,  as  he  made  his  bow  to  the  ladies. 

u Mr.  Dunwoodie  !”  cried  Sarah,  in  surprise ; u I was  ignorant  of 
your  being  in  the  house ; you  will  find  a cooler  seat  in  this  room.” 

“ I thank  you,”  replied  the  young  man,  “ but  I must  go  and  seek 
your  brother,  who  placed  me  there  in  ambuscade,  as  he  called  it, 
with  a promise  of  returning  an  hour  ago.”  Without  making  any  fur- 
ther  explanation,  the  youth  bowed  politely  to  the  young  women, 
distantly  and  with  hauteur  to  the  gentleman,  and  withdrew.  Frances 
followed  him  into  the  hall,  and  blushing  richly,  enquired,  in  a hur- 
ried voice — 

“ But  why — why  do  you  leave  us,  Mr.  Dunwoodie  ? — Henry  must 
soon  return.” 

The  gentleman  caught  one  of  her  hands  in  his  own,  and  the  sterr 
expression  of  his  countenance  gave  place  to  a look  of  admiration,  * 
he  replied — 

“ You  managed  him  famously,  my  dear  little  kinswoman ; never— 
no  never,  forget  the  land  of  your  birth ; remember,  if  you  are  the 
grand-daughter  of  an  Englishman,  you  are,  also,  the  grand-daughter 
of  a Peyton.” 

“ Oh  !”  returned  the  laughing  girl,  u it  would  be  difficult  to  forget 


THE  SI  Y . 


33 


that,  with  the  constant  lectures  on  genealogy  before  us,  with  which 
we  are  favoured  by  aunt  Jeanette — but  why  do  you  go  ?” 

“ I am  on  the  wing  for  Virginia,  and  have  much  to  do.”  He 
pressed  her  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  looking  back,  while  in  the  act  of 
closing  the  door,  exclaimed,  “ Be  true  to  your  country — be  Ameri- 
can.” The  ardent  girl  kissed  her  hand  to  him  as  he  retired,  and 
then  instantly  applying  it  with  its  beautiful  fellow  to  her  burning 
cheeks,  ran  into  her  own  apartment  to  hide  her  confusion. 

Between  the  open  sarcasm  of  Frances,  and  the  ill-concealed  dis- 
dain of  the  young  man,  Colonel  Wellmere  had  felt  himself  placed 
in  an  awkward  predicament ; but  ashamed  to  resent  such  trifles  in 
the  presence  of  his  mistress,  he  satisfied  himself  with  observing, 
superciliously,  as  Dunwoodie  left  the  room — 

“ Quite  a liberty  for  a youth  in  his  situation  ; a shop-boy  with  a 
bundle,  I fancy.” 

The  idea  of  picturing  the  graceful  Peyton  Dunwoodie  as  a shop- 
boy  could  never  enter  the  mind  of  Sarah,  and  she  looked  around 
her  in  surprise,  when  the  Colonel  continued — 

“ This  Mr.  Dun— Dun— ” 

“ Dunwoodie ! Oh  no — he  is  a relation  of  my  aunt,”  cried  the 
young  lady,  “ and  an  intimate  friend  of  my  brother ; they  were  at 
school  together,  and  only  separated  in  England,  when  one  went 
into  the  army,  and  the  other  to  a French  military  academy.” 

“ His  money  appears  to  have  been  thrown  away,”  observed  the 
Colonel,  betraying  the  spleen  he  was  unsuccessfully  striving  to 
conceal. 

“We  ought  to  hope  so,”  added  Sarah,  with  a smile;  “for  it  is 
said  he  intends  joining  the  rebel  army.  He  was  brought  in  here, 
in  a French  ship,  and  has  just  been  exchanged ; you  may  soon 
meet  him  in  arms.” 

“ Well,  let  him — I wish  Washington  plenty  of  such  heroes ;”  and 
he  turned  to  a more  pleasant  subject,  by  changing  the  discourse  to 
themselves. 

2* 


THE  SPY. 


Cf 

A few  weeks  ffter  this  scene  occurred,  the  army  of  Burgoyne 
laid  down  their  arms.  Mr.  Wharton,  beginning  to  think  the  result 
of  the  contest  doubtful,  resolved  to  conciliate  his  countrymen,  and 
gratify  himself,  by  calling  his  daughters  into  his  own  abode.  Miss 
Peyton  consented  to  be  their  companion  ; and  from  that  time,  until 
the  period  at  which  we  commenced  our  narrative,  they  had  formed 
one  family. 

Whenever  the  main  army  made  any  movements,  Captain  Whar- 
ton had,  of  course,  accompanied  it ; and  once  or  twice,  under  the 
protectioi  of  strong  parties,  acting  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Locusts,  he  had  enjoyed  rapid  and  stolen  interviews  with  his  friends. 
A twelvemonth  had,  however,  passed  without  his  seeing  them ; 
and  the  impatient  Henry  had  adopted  the  disguise  we  have  men- 
tioned, and  unfortunately  arrived  on  the  very  evening  that  an 
unknown  and  rather  suspicious  guest  was  an  inmate  of  the  house, 
which  seldom  contained  any  other  than  its  regular  inhabitants. 

“ But,  do  you  think  he  suspects  me  ?”  asked  the  captain,  with 
anxiety,  after  pausing  to  listen  to  Caesar’s  opinion  of  the  Skinners. 

“ How  should  he  ?”  cried  Sarah,  “ when  your  sisters  and  father 
could  not  penetrate  your  disguise.” 

“ There  is  something  mysterious  in  his  manner ; his  looks  are 
too  prying  for  an  indifferent  observer,”  continued  young  Wharton 
thoughtfully,  “ and  his  face  seems  familiar  to  me.  The  recent  fate 
of  Andre  has  created  much  irritation  on  both  sides.  Sir  Henry 
threatens  retaliation  for  his  death  ; and  Washington  is  as  firm  as  if 
half  the  world  were  at  his  command.  The  rebels  would  think  me 
a fit  subject  for  their  plans  just  now,  should  I be  so  unlucky  as  to 
fail  into  their  hands.” 

“ But,  my  son,”  cried  his  father,  in  great  alarm,  “ you  are  not  a 
spy  ; you  are  not  within  the  rebel — that  is,  the  American  lines ; — 
there  is  nothing  here  to  spy.” 

“That  might  be  disputed,”  rejoined  the  young  man,  musing: 
u their  pickets  were  as  low  as  the  White  Plains  when  I passed 


THE  SPY. 


35 


through  in  disguise.  It  is  true  my  purposes  are  innocent ; but  how 
is  it  to  appear  ? My  visit  to  you  would  seem  a cloak  to  other  de- 
signs. Remember,  sir,  the  treatment  you  received  not  a year  since, 
for  sending  me  a supply  of  fruit  for  the  winter/' 

“ That  proceeded  from  the  misrepresentations  of  my  kind  neigh- 
bours/' said  Mr.  Wharton,  “ who  hoped,  by  getting  my  estate  con- 
fiscated, to  purchase  good  farms,  at  low  prices.  Peyton  Dunwoodie, 
however,  soon  obtained  our  discharge ; we  were  detained  but  a 
month.” 

“We!”  repeated  the  son,  in  amazement;  “did  they  take  my 
sisters,  also  ? — Fanny,  you  wrote  me  nothing  of  this.” 

“ I believe,”  said  Frances,  colouring  highly,  “ I mentioned  the 
kind  treatment  we  received  from  your  old  friend,  Major  Dunwoodie  ; 
and  that  he  procured  my  father's  release.” 

“ True;  — but  were  you  with  him  in  the  rebel  camp?” 

“Yes,”  said  the  father,  kindly;  “Fanny  would  not  suffer  me  to 
go  alone.  Jeanette  and  Sarah  took  charge  of  the  Locusts,  and  this 
little  girl  was  my  companion,  in  captivity.” 

“ And  Fanny  returned  from  such  a scene  a greater  rebel  than 
ever,”  cried  Sarah,  indignantly;  “one  would  think  the  hardships 
her  father  suffered  would  have  cured  her  of  such  whims.” 

“What  say  you  to  the  charge,  my  pretty  sister?”  cried  the  Cap- 
tain gaily ; — “ did  Peyton  strive  to  make  you  hate  your  king,  more 
than  he  does  himself?” 

“Peyton  Dunwoodie  hates  no  one,”  said  Frances,  quickly;  then, 
blushing  at  her  own  ardour,  she  added  immediately,  “ he  loves  you, 
Henry,  I know ; for  he  has  told  me  so  again  and  again.” 

Young  Wharton  tapped  his  sister  on  the  cheek,  with  a smile,  as 
he  asked  her,  in  an  affected  whisper  — “Did  he  tell  you  also  that  he 
loved  my  little  sister  Fanny?” 

“Nonsense,”  said  Frances;  and  the  remnants  of  the  suppn-table 
soon  disappeared  under  her  superintendence. 


CHAPTER  III. 


’Twas  when  the  fields  were  swept  of  Autumn’s  store, 

And  growling  winds  the  fading  foliage  tore, 

Behind  the  Lowmon  hill,  the  short-lived  light. 

Descending  slowly,  usher’d  in  the  night ; 

When  from  the  noisy  town,  with  mournful  look* 

His  lonely  way  the  meagre  pedler  took. 

Wilson 


A storm  below  tbe  highlands  of  the  Hudson,  if  it  be  introduced 
with  an  easterly  wind,  seldom  lasts  less  than  two  days.  Accordingly, 
as  the  inmates  of  the  Locusts  assembled,  on  the  following  morning, 
around  their  early  breakfast,  the  driving  rain  was  seen  to  strike  in 
nearly  horizontal  lines  against  the  windows  of  the  building,  and  for- 
bade the  idea  of  exposing  either  man  or  beast  to  the  tempest.  Har- 
per was  the  last  to  appear : after  taking  a view  of  the  state  of  the 
weather,  he  apologised  to  Mr.  Wharton  for  the  necessity  that  existed 
for  his  trespassing  on  his  goodness  for  a longer  time.  To  appear- 
ances, the  reply  was  as  courteous  as  the  excuse ; yet  Harper  wore 
a resignation  in  his  deportment  that  was  widely  different  from  the 
uneasy  manner  of  the  father.  Henry  Wharton  had  resumed  his 
disguise  with  a reluctance  amounting  to  disgust,  but  in  obedience  to 
the  commands  of  his  parent.  No  communications  passed  between 
him  and  the  stranger,  after  the  first  salutations  of  the  morning  had 
been  paid  by  Harper  to  him,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  family. 
Frances  had,  indeed,  thought  there  was  something  like  a smile  pass- 
ing over  the  features  of  the  traveller,  when,  on  entering  the  room, 
he  first  confronted  her  brother ; but  it  was  confined  to  the  eyes, 


T H 13  SPY. 


37 


seeming  to  want  power  to  affect  the  muscles  of  the  face,  and  was 
soon  lost  in  the  settled  and  benevolent  expression  which  reigned  in 
his  countenance,  with  a sway  but  seldom  interrupted.  The  eyes  of 
the  affectionate  sister  were  turned  in  anxiety,  for  a moment,  on  her 
brother,  and  glancing  again  on  their  unknown  guest,  met  his  look, 
as  he  offered  her,  with  marked  attention,  one  of  the  little  civilities 
of  the  table ; and  the  heart  of  the  girl,  which  had  begun  to  throb 
with  violence,  regained  a pulsation  as  tempered  as  youth,  health, 
and  buoyant  spirits  could  allow.  While  yet  seated  at  the  table, 
Caesar  entered,  and,  laying  a small  parcel  in  silence  by  the  side  of 
his  master,  modestly  retired  behind  his  chair,  where,  placing  one 
hand 'm  its  back,  he  continued  in  an  attitude  half  familiar,  half  re- 
spectful, a listener. 

“What  is  this,  Caesar?”  enquired  Mr.  Wharton,  turning  the 
bundle  over  to  examine  its  envelope,  and  eyeing  it  rather  suspi- 
ciously. 

“ The  ’baccy,  sir ; Harvey  Birch,  he  got  home,  and  he  bring  you 
a little  good  ’baccy  from  York.” 

“ Harvey  Birch !”  rejoined  the  master  with  great  deliberation, 
stealing  a look  at  his  guest.  “ I do  not  remember  desiring  him  to 
purchase  any  tobacco  for  me ; but  as  he  has  brought  it,  he  must  bo 
paid  for  his  trouble.” 

For  an  instant  only,  as  the  negro  spoke,  did  Harper  suspend  his 
silent  meal ; his  eye  moved  slowly  from  the  servant  to  the  master, 
and  again  all  remained  in  its  impenetrable  reserve. 

To  Sarah  Wharton,  this  intelligence  gave  unexpected  pleasure; 
rising  from  her  seat,  with  impatience,  she  bade  the  black  show  Birch 
into  the  apartment ; when,  suddenly  recollecting  herself,  she  turned 
to  the  traveller  with  an  apologising  look,  and  added,  “ if  Mr.  Harper 
will  excuse  the  presence  of  a pedler.” 

The  indulgent  benevolence  expressed  in  the  countenance  of  the 
stranger,  as  he  bowed  a silent  acquiescence,  spoke  more  eloquently 
than  the  nicest  framed  period,  and  the  young  lady  repeated  her 


38 


THE  ST  Y. 


order,  with  a confidence  in  its  truth  that  removed  all  embarrass 
ment. 

In  the  deep  recesses  of  the  windows  of  the  cottage  were  seats  ot 
panelled  work ; and  the  rich  damask  curtains,  that  had  ornamented 
the  parlour  in  Queen  Street,*  had  been  transferred  to  the  Locusts, 
and  gave  to  the  room  that  indescribable  air  of  comfort,  which  sc 
gratefully  announces  the  approach  of  a domestic  winter.  Into  one 
of  these  recesses  Captain  Vfharton  now  threw  himself,  drawing  the 
curtain  before  him  in  such  a manner  as  to  conceal  most  of  his  person 
from  observation ; while  his  younger  sister,  losing  her  natural  frank- 
ness of  manner,  in  an  air  of  artificial  constraint,  silently  took  pos- 
session of  the  other. 

Harvey  Birch  had  been  a pedler  from  his  youth ; at  least  so  he 
frequently  asserted,  and  his  skill  in  the  occupation  went  far  to  prove 
the  truth  of  the  declaration.  He  was  a native  of  one  of  the  eastern 
colonies;  and,  from  something  of  superior  intelligence  which  be- 
longed to  his  father,  it  was  thought  they  had  known'better  fortunes 
in  the  land  of  their  nativity.  Harvey  possessed,  however,  the  com- 
mon manners  of  the  country,  and  was  in  no  way  distinguished  from 
men  of  his  class,  but  by  his  acuteness,  and  the  mystery  which  enve- 
loped his  movements.  Ten  years  before,  they  had  arrived  together 
in  the  vale,  and,  purchasing  the  humble  dwelling  at  which  Harper 
had  made  his  unsuccessful  application,  continued  ever  since  peaceful 
inhabitants,  but  little  noticed  and  but  little  known.  Until  age  and 
infirmities  had  prevented,  the  father  devoted  himself  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  small  spot  of  ground  belonging  to  his  purchase,  while  the 
son  pursued  with  avidity  his  humble  barter.  Their  orderly  quietude 

* The  Americans  changed  the  names  of  many  towns  and  streets  at  the 
revolution,  as  has  since  been  done  in  France.  Thus,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
Crown  Street  has  become  Liberty  Street;  King  Street,  Pine  Street;  and  Queen 
Street,  then  one  of  the  most  fashionable  quarters  of  the  town,  Pearl  Street. 
Pearl  Street  is  now  chiefly  occupied  by  the  auction  dealers,  and  the  wholesale 
dry -goods  merchants,  for  ware-houses  and  counting-rooms. 


THE  SPY. 


39 


had  soon  given  them  so  much  consideration  in  the  neigl  ibourhood, 
as  to  induce  a maiden  of  five-and-thirty  to  forget  the  punctilio  of  her 
sex,  and  to  accept  the  office  of  presiding  over  their  domestic  com- 
forts. The  roses  had  long  before  vanished  from  the  cheeks  of  Katy 
Haynes,  and  she  had  seen  in  succession,  both  her  male  and  female 
acquaintances  forming  the  union  so  desirable  to  her  sex,  with  but 
little  or  no  hope  left  for  herself,  when,  with  views  of  her  own,  she 
entered  the  family  of  the  Birches.  Necessity  is  a hard  master,  and, 
for  the  want  of  a better  companion,  the  father  and  son  were  induced 
to  accept  her  services ; but  still  Katy  was  not  wanting  in  some  qua- 
lities, which  made  her  a very  tolerable  housekeeper.  On  the  one 
hand,  she  was  neat,  industrious,  honest,  and  a good  manager.  On 
the  other,  she  was  talkative,  selfish,  superstitious,  and  inquisitive. 
By  dint  of  using  the  latter  quality  with  consummate  industry,  she 
had  not  lived  in  the  family  five  years  when  she  triumphantly  de- 
clared, that  she  had  heard,  or  rather  overheard,  sufficient  to  enable 
her  to  say  what  had  been  the  former  fate  of  her  associates.  Could 
Katy  have  possessed  enough  of  divination  to  pronounce  upon  their 
future  lot,  her  task  would  have  been  accomplished.  From  the  pri- 
vate conversations  of  the  parent  and  child,  she  learnt  that  a fire  had 
reduced  them  from  competence  to  poverty,  and  at  the  same  time 
diminished  the  number  of  their  family  to  two.  There  was  a tremu- 
lousness in  the  voice  of  the  father,  as  he  touched  lightly  on  the 
event,  which  affected  even  the  heart  of  Katy ; but  no  barrier  is  suffi- 
cient to  repel  vulgar  curiosity.  She  persevered,  until  a very  direct 
intimation  from  Harvey,  by  threatening  to  supply  her  place  with  a 
female  a few  years  younger  than  herself,  gave  her  awful  warning 
that  there  were  bounds  beyond  which  she  was  not  to  pass.  From 
that  period  the  curiosity  of  the  housekeeper  had  been  held  in  such 
salutary  restraint,  that,  although  no  .opportunity  of  listening  was  ever 
neglected,  she  had  been  able  to  add  but  little  to  her  stock  of  know- 
ledge. There  was,  however,  one  piece  of  intelligence,  and  that  of  no 
little  interest  to  herself,  which  she  had  succeeded  in  obtaining ; and 


4 U 


THE  SPY. 


from  the  moment  of  its  acquisition,  she  directed  her  energies  to  the 
accomplishment  of  one  object,  aided  by  the  double  stimulus  of  love 
and  avarice. 

Harvey  was  in  the  frequent  habit  of  paying  mysterious  visits,  in 
the  depth  of  the  night,  to  the  fire-place  of  the  apartment,  that  served 
for  both  kitchen  and  parlour.  Here  he  was  observed  by  Katy ; and, 
availing  herself  of  his  absence,  and  the  occupations  of  the  father,  by 
removing  one  of  the  hearth-stones,  she  discovered  an  iron  pot,  glit- 
tering with  a metal  that  seldom  fails  to  soften  the  hardest  heart. 
Katy  succeeded  in  replacing  the  stone  without  discovery,  and  never 
dared  to  trust  herself  with  another  visit.  From  that  moment,  how- 
ever, the  heart  of  the  virgin  lost  its  obduracy ; and  nothing  inter- 
posed between  Harvey  and  his  happiness,  but  his  own  want  of  ob- 
servation. 

The  war  did  not  interfere  with  the  traffic  of  the  pedlar,  who  seized 
on  the  golden  opportunity,  which  the  interruption  of  the  regular 
trade  afforded,  and  appeared  absorbed  in  the  one  grand  object  of 
amassing  money.  For  a year  or  two,  his  employment  was  uninter- 
rupted, and  his  success  proportionate ; but,  at  length,  dark  and  threat- 
ening hints  began  to  throw  suspicion  around  his  movements,  and  the 
civil  authority  thought  it  incumbent  on  them  to  examine  narrowly 
into  his  mode  of  life.  His  imprisonments,  though  frequent,  were 
not  long ; and  his  escapes  from  the  guardians  of  the  law  easy,  com- 
pared to  what  he  endured  from  the  persecution  of  the  military.  Still 
Birch  survived,  and  still  he  continued  his  trade,  though  compelled 
to  be  very  guarded  in  his  movements,  especially  whenever  he  ap- 
proached the  northern  boundaries  of  the  county ; or,  in  other  words, 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  American  lines.  His  visits  to  the  Locusts 
had  become  less  frequent,  and  his  appearance  at  his  own  abode  so 
seldom,  as  to  draw  forth  from  the  disappointed  Katy,  in  the  fulness 
of  her  heart,  the  complaint  we  have  related,  in  her  reply  to  Harper. 
Nothing,  however,  seemed  to  interfere  with  the  pursuits  of  this  indo« 
fatigable  trader ; who,  with  a view  to  dispose  of  certain  articles  for 


THE  SPY. 


winch  he  could  only  find  purchasers  in  the  very  wealthiest  families 
of  the  county,  had  now  braved  the  fury  of  the  tempest,  and  ventured 
to  cross  the  half  mile  between  his  own  residence  and  the  house  of 
Mr.  Wharton. 

In  a few  minutes  after  receiving  the  commands  of  his  young  mis- 
tress, Caesar  re-appeared,  ushering  into  the  apartment  the  subject  of 
the  foregoing  digression.  In  person,  the  pedler  was  a man  above 
the  middle  height,  spare,  but  full  of  bone  and  muscle.  At  first 
sight,  his  strength  seemed  unequal  to  manage  the  unwieldy  burden 
of  his  pack ; yet  he  threw  it  on  and  off  with  great  dexterity,  and 
with  as  much  apparent  ease  as  if  it  had  been  filled  with  feathers. 
His  eyes  were  grey,  sunken,  restless,  and,  for  the  flitting  moments 
that  they  dwelt  on  the  countenances  of  those  with  whom  he  con- 
versed, they  seemed  to  read  the  very  soul.  They  possessed,  how- 
ever, two  distinct  expressions,  which,  in  a great  measure,  character- 
ised the  whole  man.  When  engaged  in  traffic,  the  intelligence  of 
his  face  appeared  lively,  active,  and  flexible,  though  uncommonly 
acute;  if  the  conversation  turned  on  the  ordinary  transactions  of 
life,  his  air  became  abstracted  and  restless ; but  if,  by  chance,  the 
revolution  and  the  country  were  the  topic,  his  whole  system  seemed 
altered  — all  his  faculties  were  concentrated : he  would  listen  for  a 
great  length  of  time,  without  speaking,  and  then  would  break  silence 
by  some  light  and  jocular  remark,  that  was  too  much  at  variance 
with  his  former  manner,  not  to  be  affectation.  But  of  the  war,  and 
of  his  father,  he  seldom  spoke,  and  always  from  some  very  obvious 
necessity. 

To  a superficial  observer,  avarice  would  seem  his  ruling  passion — 
and,  all  things  considered,  he  was  as  unfit  a subject  for  the  plans  of 
Katy  Haynes  as  can  be  readily  imagined.  On  entering  the  room, 
the  pedler  relieved  himself  from  his  burden,  which,  as  it  stood  on 
the  floor,  reached  nearly  to  his  shoulders,  and  saluted  the  family  with 
modest  civility.  To  Harper  he  made  a silent  bow,  without  lifting 
his  eyes  from  the  carpet : but  the  curtain  prevented  any  notice  of 


4-2 


THE  SPY. 


the  presence  of  Captain  Wharton.  Sarah  gave  but  little  time  for 
the  usual  salutations,  before  she  commenced  her  survey  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  pack ; and,  for  several  minutes,  the  two  were  engaged 
in  bringing  to  light  the  various  articles  it  contained.  The  tables, 
chairs,  and  floor,  were  soon  covered  with  silks,  crapes,  gloves,  mus- 
lins, and  all  the  stock  of  an  itinerant  trader.  Caesar  was  employed 
to  hold  open  the  mouth  of  the  pack,  as  its  hoards  were  discharged, 
and  occasionally  he  aided  his  young  lady,  by  directing  her  admiration 
to  some  article  of  finery,  which,  from  its  deeper  contrast  in  colours, 
he  thought  more  worthy  of  her  notice.  At  length,  Sarah,  having 
selected  several  articles,  and  satisfactorily  arranged  the  prices,  ob- 
served in  a cheerful  voice  — 

“ But,  Harvey,  you  have  told  us  no  news.  Has  Lord  Cornwallis 
beaten  the  rebels  again  V’ 

The  question  could  not  have  been  heard ; for  the  pedler,  burying 
his  body  in  the  pack,  brought  forth  a quantity  of  lace  of  exquisite 
fineness,  and,  holding  it  up  to  view,  he  required  the  admiration  of 
the  young  lady.  Miss  Peyton  dropped  the  cup  she  was  engaged 
in  washing,  from  her  hand ; and  Frances  exhibited  the  whole  of 
that  lovely  face,  which  had  hitherto  only  suffered  one  of  its  joyous 
eyes  to  be  seen,  beaming  with  a colour  that  shamed  the  damask 
which  enviously  concealed  her  figure. 

The  aunt  quitted  her  employment ; and  Birch  soon  disposed  of  a 
large  portion  of  this  valuable  article.  The  praises  of  the  ladies  had 
drawn  the  whole  person  of  the  younger  sister  into  view  ; and  Frances 
was  slowly  rising  from  the  window,  as  Sarah  repeated  her  question, 
with  an  exultation  in  her  voice,  that  proceeded  more  from  pleasure 
in  her  purchase,  than  her  political  feelings.  The  younger  sister  re- 
sumed her  seat,  apparently  examining  the  state  of  the  clouds,  while 
the  pedler,  finding  a reply  was  expected,  answered  slowly — 

u There  is  some  talk,  below,  about  Tarleton  having  defeated  Gen- 
eral Sumpter,  on  the  Tiger  river.” 

Captain  Wbarton  now  involuntarily  thrust  his  head  between  the 


T HE  SPY. 


4 3 


opening  of  the  curtains  into  the  room ; and  Frances  turning  her  car 
in  breathless  silence,  noticed  the  quiet  eyes  of  Harper  looking  at  the 
pedler,  over  the  hook  he  was  affecting  to  read,  with  an  expression 
that  denoted  him  to  be  a listener  of  no  ordinary  interest. 

“Indeed!”  cried  the  exulting  Sarah;  “ Sumpter  — Sumpter — • 
who  is  he?  I'll  not  buy  even  a pin,  until  you  tell  me  all  the 
news,”  she  continued,  laughing,  and  throwing  down  a muslin  she 
bad  been  examining. 

For  a moment  the  pedler  hesitated : his  eye  glanced  towards  Har- 
per, who  was  yet  gazing  at  him  with  settled  meaning,  and  the  whole 
manner  of  Birch  was  altered.  Approaching  the  fire,  he  took  from 
his  mouth  a large  allowance  of  the  Virginian  weed,  and  depositing 
it,  with  the  superabundance  of  its  juices,  without  mercy  to  Miss 
Peyton's  shining  andirons,  he  returned  to  his  goods. 

“ He  lives  somewhere  among  the  niggars  to  the  south,”  answered 
the  pedler,  abruptly. 

“No  more  niggar  than  be  yourself,  Mister  Birch,”  interrupted 
Caesar  tartly,  dropping,  at  the  same  time,  the  covering  of  the  goods 
in  high  displeasure. 

“ Hush,  Caesar — hush — never  mind  it  now,”  said  Sarah  Wharton 
soothingly,  impatient  to  hear  further. 

“ A black  man  so  good  as  white,  Miss  Sally,”  continued  the  of- 
fended negro,  “ so  long  as  he  behave  heself.” 

“ And  frequently  he  is  much  better,”  rejoined  his  mistress  : “ but, 
Harvey,  who  is  this  Mr.  Sumpter  ?” 

A slight  indication  of  humour  showed  itself  on  the  face  of  the 
pedler — but  it  disappeared,  and  he  continued  as  if  the  discourse  had 
met  with  no  interruption  from  the  sensitiveness  of  the  domestic. 

“As  I was  saying,  he  lives  among  the  coloured  people  in  the 
south” — Caesar  resumed  his  occupation — “ and  he  has  lately  had  a 
skrimmage  with  this  Colonel  Tarleton — ” 

“ Who  defeated  him  of  course,”  cried  Sarah,  with  confidence. 

“ So  say  the  troops  at  Morrisania.” 


44 


THE  SPY. 


“ But  wliat  do  you  say  ?”  Mr.  Wharton  ventured  to  enquire,  yet 
speaking  in  a low  tone. 

“ I repeat  but  what  I hear,”  said  Birch,  offering  a piece  of  cloth 
to  the  inspection  of  Sarah,  who  rejected  it  in  silence,  evidently  de- 
termined to  hear  more  before  she  made  another  purchase. 

“ They  say,  however,  at  the  Plains,”  the  pedler  continued,  first 
throwing  his  eyes  again  round  the  room,  and  letting  them  rest  for 
an  instant  on  Harper,  “ that  Sumpter  and  one  or  two  more  were  all 
that  were  hurt,  and  that  the  rigTars  were  all  cut  to  pieces,  for  the 
militia  were  fixed  snugly  in  a log  barn.” 

“Not  very  probable,”  said  Sarah,  contemptuously,  “though  I 
make  no  doubt  the  rebels  got  behind  the  logs.” 

“I  think,”  said  the  pedler,  coolly,  again  offering  the  silk,  “it's 
quite  ingenious  to  get  a log  between  one  and  a gun,  instead  of  get- 
ting between  a gun  and  a log.” 

The  eyes  of  Harper  dropped  quietly  on  the  pages  of  the  volume 
in  his  hand,  while  Frances,  rising,  came  forward  with  a smile  in  her 
face,  as  she  enquired,  in  a tone  of  affability  that  the  pedler  had  never 
before  witnessed  from  the  younger  sister — 

“ Have  you  more  of  the  lace,  Mr.  Birch  ?” 

The  desired  article  was  immediately  produced,  and  Frances 
became  a purchaser  also.  By  her  order  a glass  of  liquor  was  offered 
to  the  trader,  who  took  it  with  thanks,  and,  having  paid  his 
compliments  to  the  master  of  the  house  and  the  ladies,  drank  the 
beverage. 

“So,  it  is  thought  that  Colonel  Tarleton  has  worsted  General 
Sumpter  ?”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  affecting  to  be  employed  in  mending 
the  cup  that  was  broken  by  the  eagerness  of  his  sister-in-law. 

“ I believe  they  think  so  at  Morrisania,”  said  Birch,  dryly. 

“ Have  you  any  other  news,  friend  ?”  asked  Captain  Wharton, 
venturing  to  thrust  his  face  without  the  curtains  again. 

“ Have  you  heard  that  Major  Andre  has  been  hanged?” 

Captain  Wharton  started,  and  for  a moment  glances  of  great 


THE  SPY. 


45 


significance  were  exchanged  between  him  and  the  trader,  when  he 
observed,  with  affected  indifference,  “that  must  have  been  some 
weeks  ago.” 

“Does  his  execution  make  much  noise?”  asked  the  father, 
striving  to  make  the  broken  china  unite. 

“People  will  talk,  you  know,  9 Squire.” 

“Is  there  any  probability  of  movements  below,  my  friend,  that 
will  make  travelling  dangerous  ?”  asked  Harper,  looking  steadily  at 
the  other,  in  expectation  of  his  reply. 

Some  bunches  of  ribands  fell  from  the  hands  of  Birch ; his  coun- 
tenance changed  instantly,  losing  its  keen  expression  in  intent 
meaning,  as  he  answered  slowly — “It  is  some  time  since  the  rig’lar 
cavalry  were  out,  and  I saw  some  of  De  Lancey’s  men  cleaning 
their  arms,  as  I passed  their  quarters;  it  would  be  no  wonder 
if  they  took  the  scent  soon,  for  the  Virginia  horse  are  low  in 
the  county.” 

“ Are  they  in  much  force  ?”  asked  Mr.  Wharton,  suspending  all 
employment  in  anxiety. 

“I  did  not  count  them.” 

Frances  was  the  only  observer  of  the  change  in  the  manner 
of  Birch,  and,  on  turning  to  Harper,  he  had  resumed  his  book  in 
silence.  She  took  some  of  the  ribands  in  her  hand  — laid  them 
down  again  — and,  bending  over  the  goods,  so  that  her  hair,  falling 
in  rich  curls,  shaded  her  face,  she  observed,  blushing  with  a colour 
that  suffused  her  neck  — 

“ I thought  the  southern  horse  had  marched  towards  the  Dela- 
ware.” 

“ It  may  be  so,”  said  Birch ; “ I passed  the  troops  at  a dis- 
tance.” 

Caesar  had  now  selected  a piece  of  calico,  in  which  the  gaudy 
colours  of  yellow  and  red  were  contrasted  on  a white  ground,  and, 
after  admiring  it  for  several  minutes,  he  laid  it  down  with  a sigh,  as 
he  exclaimed,  “Berry  pretty  calico.” 


46 


THE  SF  Y. 


“ That,”  said  Sarah ; “ yes,  that  would  make  a proper  gown  for 
your  wife,  Caesar.” 

“ Yes,  Miss  Sally,”  cried  the  delighted  black,  “ it  make  old 
Dinah  heart  leap  for  joy  — so  berry  genteel.” 

“Yes,”  added  the  pedler,  quaintly,  “that  is  only  wanting  to 
make  Dinah  look  like  a rainbow.” 

Caesar  eyed  his  young  mistress  eagerly,  until  she  enquired  of 
Harvey  the  price  of  the  article. 

“ Why,  much  as  I light  of  chaps,”  said  the  pedler. 

“ How  much  ?”  demanded  Sarah  in  surprise. 

“According  to  my  luck  in  finding  purchasers;  for  my  friend 
Dinah,  you  may  have  it  at  four  shillings.” 

“It  is  too  much,”  said  Sarah,  turning  to  some  goods  for  herself. 

“ Monstrous  price  for  coarse  calico,  Mister  Birch,”  grumbled 
Caesar,  dropping  the  opening  of  the  pack  again. 

“We  will  say  three,  then,”  added  the  pedler,  “if  you  like  that 
better.” 

“ Be  sure  he  like  ’em  better,”  said  Caesar,  smiling  good-humour- 
edly, and  re-opening  the  pack  — “ Miss  Sally  like  a free  shilling 
when  she  give,  and  a four  shilling  when  she  take.” 

The  bargain  was  immediately  concluded;  but  in  measuring,  the 
cloth  wanted  a little  of  the  well-known  ten  yards  required  by  the 
dimensions  of  Dinah.  By  dint  of  a strong  arm,  however,  it  grew  to 
the  desired  length,  under  the  experienced  eye  of  the  pedler,  who 
conscientiously  added  a riband  of  corresponding  brilliancy  with  the 
calico;  and  Caesar  hastily  withdrew,  to  communicate  the  joyful 
intelligence  to  his  aged  partner. 

During  the  movements  created  by  the  conclusion  of  the  purchase, 
Captain  Wharton  had  ventured  to  draw  aside  the  curtain,  so  as  to 
admit  a view  of  his  person,  and  he  now  enquired  of  the  pedler,  who 
had  begun  to  collect  the  scattered  goods,  at  what  time  he  had  left 
the  city. 

“ At  early  twilight,”  was  the  answer. 


THE  SPY. 


41 


“ So  lately  !”  cried  the  other  in  surprise : and  tlien  correcting  his 
manner,  by  assuming  a more  guarded  air,  he  continued  — “ Could 
you  pass  the  pickets  at  so  late  an  hour  ?” 

“ I did,”  was  the  laconic  reply. 

“ You  must  be  well  known  by  this  time,  Harvey,  to  the  officer? 
of  the  British  army,”  cried  Sarah,  smiling  knowingly  on  the  pedler. 

“ I know  some  of  then?  by  sight,”  said  Birch,  glancing  his  eyes 
round  the  apartment,  taking  in  their  course  Captain  Wharton,  and 
resting  for  an  instant  on  the  countenance  of  Harper. 

Mr.  Wharton  had  listened  intently  to  each  speaker,  in  succession, 
and  had  so  far  lost  the  affectation  of  indifference,  as  to  be  crushing 
in  his  hand  the  pieces  of  china  on  which  he  had  expended  so  much 
labour  in  endeavouring  to  mend  it ; when,  observing  the  pedler  tying 
the  last  knot  in  his  pack,  he  asked  abruptly  — 

“Are  we  about  to  be  disturbed  again  with  the  enemy?” 

“ Who  do  you  call  the  enemy  ?”  said  the  pedler,  raising  himself 
erect,  and  giving  the  other  a look,  before  which  the  eyes  of  Mr. 
Wharton  sunk  in  instant  confusion. 

“All  are  enemies  who  disturb  our  peace,”  said  Miss  Peyton,  ob- 
serving that  her  brother  was  unable  to  speak.  “ But  are  the  royal 
troops  out  from  below  ?” 

“ 'Tis  quite  likely  they  soon  may  be,”  returned  Birch,  raising  his 
pack  from  the  floor,  and  preparing  to  leave  the  room. 

“ And  the  continentals,”  continued  Miss  Peyton  mildly,  “ are  the 
continentals  in  the  county  ?” 

Harvey  was  about  to  utter  something  in  reply,  when  the  door 
opened,  ancf  Caesar  made  his  appearance,  attended  by  his  delighted 
spouse. 

The  race  of  blacks  of  which  Caesar  was  a favourable  specimen  is 
becoming  very  rare.  The  old  family  servant,  who,  born  and  reared 
in  the  dwelling  of  his  master,  identified  himself  with  the  welfare  of 
those  whom  it  was  his  lot  to  serve,  is  giving  place  in  every  direction 
to  that  vagrant  class  which  has  sprung  up  within  the  last  thirty 


48 


THE  SP  Y . 


years,  and  whose  members  roam  through  the  country  unfettered  by 
princij  les,  and  uninfluenced  by  attachments.  For  it  is  one  of  the 
curses  of  slavery,  that  its  victims  become  incompetent  to  the  attri- 
butes of  a freeman.  The  short  curly  hair  of  Caesar  had  acquired 
from  age  a colouring  of  grey,  that  added  greatly  to  the  venerable 
cast  of  his  appearance.  Long  and  indefatigable  applications  of  the 
comb  had  straightened  the  close  curls  of  his  forehead,  until  they 
stood  erect  in  a stiff  and  formal  brush,  that  gave  at  least  two  inches 
to  his  stature.  The  shining  black  of  his  youth  had  lost  its  glistening 
hue,  and  it  had  been  succeeded  by  a dingy  brown.  His  eyes,  which 
stood  at  a most  formidable  distance  from  each  other,  were  small,  and 
characterised  by  an  expression  of  good  feeling,  occasionally  inter- 
rupted by  the  petulance  of  an  indulged  servant ; they,  however,  now 
danced  with  inward  delight.  His  nose  possessed,  in  an  eminent 
manner,  all  the  requisites  for  smelling,  but  with  the  most  modest 
unobtrusiveness;  the  nostrils  being  abundantly  capacious,  without 
thrusting  themselves  in  the  way  of  their  neighbours.  His  mouth 
was  capacious  to  a fault,  and  was  only  tolerated  on  account  of  the 
double  row  of  pearls  it  contained.  In  person  Caesar  was  short,  and 
we  should  say  square,  had  not  all  the  angles  and  curves  of  his  figure 
bid  defiance  to  any  thing  like  mathematical  symmetry.  His  arms 
were  long  and  muscular,  and  terminated  by  two  bony  hands,  that 
exhibited  on  one  side,  a colouring  of  blackish  grey,  and  on  the  other, 
a faded  pink.  But  it  was  in  his  legs  that  nature  had  indulged  her 
most  capricious  humour.  There  was  an  abundance  of  material  inju- 
diciously used.  The  calves  were  neither  before  nor  behind,  but 
rather  on  the  outer  side  of  the  limb,  inclining  forward,  and  so  close 
to  the  knee  as  to  render  the  free  use  of  that  joint  a subject  of  doubt. 
In  the  foot,  considering  it  as  a base  on  which  the  body  was  to  rest, 
Cicsar  had  no  cause  of  complaint,  unless,  indeed,  it  might  be  that 
the  leg  was  placed  so  near  the  centre,  as  to  make  it  sometimes  a 
matter  of  dispute,  whether  he  was  not  walking  backwards.  But 
whatever  might  be  the  faults  a statuary  could  discover  in  his  person, 


THE  SPY. 


49 


the  heart  of  Caesar  Thompson  was  in  the  right  place,  and,  we  doubt 
not,  of  very  just  dimensions. 

Accompanied  by  his  ancient  companion,  Caesar  now  advanced,  and 
paid  his  tribute  of  gratitude  in  words.  Sarah  received  them  with 
great  complacency,  and  made  a few  compliments  to  the  taste  of  the 
husband,  and  the  probable  appearance  of  the  wife.  Frances,  with  a 
face  beaming  with  a look  of  pleasure  that  corresponded  to  the  smiling 
countenances  of  the  blacks,  offered  the  service  of  her  needle  in  fitting 
the  admired  calico  to  its  future  uses.  The  offer  was  humbly  and 
gratefully  accepted. 

As  Caesar  followed  his  wife  and  the  pedler  from  the  apartment, 
and  was  in  the  act  of  closing  the  door,  he  indulged  himself  in  a grate- 
ful soliloquy,  by  saying  aloud — 

“ Good  little  lady — Miss  Fanny — take  care  of  he  fader — love  to 
make  a gown  for  old  Dinah,  too.”  What  else  his  feelings  might 
have  induced  him  to  utter  is  unknown,  but  the  sound  of  his  voice 
was  heard  some  time  after  the  distance  rendered  his  words  indistinct. 

Harper  had  dropped  his  book,  and  he  sat  an  admiring  witness  of 
the  scene ; and  Frances  enjoyed  a double  satisfaction,  as  she  received 
an  approving  smile  from  a face  which  concealed,  under  the  traces  of 
deep  thought  and  engrossing  care,  the  benevolent  expression  which 
characterises  all  the  best  feelings  of  the  human  heart. 


3 


CHAPTER  17. 


“ It  is  the  form,  the  eye,  the  word. 

The  bearing  of  that  stranger  Lord  ; 

His  stature,  manly,  bold,  and  tall, 

Built  like  a castle’s  battled  wall, 

Yet  moulded  in  such  just  degrees, 

His  giant  strength  seems  lightsome  ease, 

Weather  and  war  their  rougher  trace 
Have  left  on  that  majestic  face ; — 

But  ’tis  his  dignity  of  eye  ! 

There,  if  a suppliant,  would  I fly, 

Secure,  ’mid  danger,  wrongs,  and  grief, 

Of  sympathy,  redress,  relief — 

That  glance,  if  guilty,  would  I dread 
More  than  the  doom  that  spoke  me  dead.” 

“ Enough,  enough  !”  the  princess  cried, 
kt  ’Tis  Scotland’s  hope,  her  joy,  her  pride  !” 

Walter  Scott. 

The  party  sat  in  silence  for  many  minutes  after  the  pedler  had 
withdrawn.  Mr.  Wharton  had  heard  enough  to  increase  his  uneasi- 
ness, without  in  the  least  removing  his  apprehensions  on  behalf  of 
his  son.  The  Captain  was  impatiently  wishing  Harper  in  any  other 
place  than  the  one  he  occupied  with  such  apparent  composure,  while 
Miss  Peyton  completed  the  disposal  of  her  breakfast  equipage,  with 
the  mild  complacency  of  her  nature,  aided  a little  by  an  inward  satis- 
faction at  possessing  so  large  a portion  of  the  trader’s  lace  — Sarah 
was  busily  occupied  in  arranging  her  purchases,  and  Frances  was 
kindly  assisting  in  the  occupation,  disregarding  her  own  neglected 
bargains,  when  the  stranger  suddenly  broke  the  silence  by  saying — 
u If  any  apprehensions  of  me  induce  Captain  Wharton  to  maintain 


THE  SPY. 


51 


his  disguise,  I wish  him  to  be  undeceived ; had  I motives  for  betray- 
ing him,  they  could  not  operate  under  present  circumstances.” 

The  younger  sister  sank  into  her  seat  colourless  and  astonished. 
Miss  Peyton  dropped  the  tea-tray  she  was  lifting  from  the  table,  and 
Sarah  sat  with  her  purchases  unheeded  in  her  lap,  in  speechless  sur- 
prise. Mr.  Wharton  was  stupified;  but  the  Captain,  hesitating  a 
moment  from  astonishment,  sprang  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
exclaimed,  as  he  tore  off  the  instruments  of  his  disguise — 

“ I believe  you  from  my  soul,  and  this  tiresome  imposition  shall 
continue  no  longer.  Yet  I am  at  a loss  to  conceive  in  what  manner 
you  should  know  me.” 

u You  really  look  so  much  better  in  your  proper  person,  Captain 
Wharton,”  said  Harper,  with  a slight  smile,  “ I would  advise  you 
never  to  conceal  it  in  future.  There,  is  enough  to  betray  you,  if 
other  sources  of  detection  were  wanting :”  as  he  spoke,  he  pointed 
to  a picture  suspended  over  the  mantel-piece,  which  exhibited  the 
British  officer  in  his  regimentals. 

u I had  flattered  myself,”  cried  young  Wharton,  with  a laugh, 
“ that  I looked  better  on  the  canvass  than  in  a masquerade.  You 
must  be  a close  observer,  sir.” 

“ Necessity  has  made  me  one,”  said  Harper,  rising  from  his  seat. 

Frances  met  him  as  he  was  about  to  withdraw7,  and,  taking  his 
hand  between  both  her  own,  said  with  earnestness,  her  cheeks  man- 
tling with  their  richest  vermilion — “ You  cannot — you  will  not  be- 
tray my  brother.” 

For  an  instant  Harper  paused  in  silent  admiration  of  the  lovely 
pleader,  and  then,  folding  her  hands  on  his  breast,  he  replied  so- 
lemnly— “I  cannot,  and  I will  not;”  he  released  her  hands,  and 
laying  his  own  on  her  head  gently,  continued — “If  the  blessing  of 
a stranger  can  profit  you,  receive  it.”  He  turned,  and,  bowing  low, 
retired,  with  a delicacy  that  was  duly  a ppreciated  by  those  he  quitted, 
to  his  own  apartment. 

The  whole  party  were  deeply  impressed  with  the  ingen  nous  and 


52 


THE  SPY. 


solemn  manner  of  the  traveller,  and  all  but  the  father  found  imme- 
diate relief  in  his  declaration.  Some  of  the  cast-off  clothes  of  the 
captain,  which  had  been  removed  with  the  goods  from  the  city,  were 
produced ; and  young  Wharton,  released  from  the  uneasiness  of  his 
disguise,  began  at  last  to  enjoy  a visit  which  had  been  undertaken  at 
so  much  personal  risk  to  himself.  Mr.  Wharton  retiring  to  his 
apartment,  in  pursuance  of  his  regular  engagements,  the  ladies,  with 
the  young  man,  were  left  to  an  uninterrupted  communication  on 
such  subjects  as  were  most  agreeable.  Even  Miss  Peyton  was  af- 
fected with  the  spirits  of  her  young  relatives ; and  they  sat  for  an 
hour  enjoying,  in  heedless  confidence,  the  pleasures  of  an  unrestrained 
conversation,  without  reflecting  on  any  danger  which  might  be  im- 
pending over  them.  The  city  and  their  acquaintances  were  not  long 
neglected;  for  Miss  Peyton,  who  had  never  forgotten  the  many 
agreeable  hours  of  her  residence  within  its  boundaries,  soon  enquired, 
among  others,  after  their  old  acquaintance,  Colonel  Wellmere. 

“ Oh  l ” cried  the  Captain,  gaily,  “ he  yet  continues  there,  as  hand- 
some and  as  gallant  as  ever.” 

Although  a woman  be  not  actually  in  love,  she  seldom  hears  with- 
out a blush  the  name  of  a man  whom  she  might  love,  and  who  has 
been  connected  with  herself,  by  idle  gossips,  in  the  amatory  rumour 
of  the  day.  Such  had  been  the  case  with  Sarah,  and  she  dropped 
her  eyes  on  the  carpet  with  a smile,  that,  aided  by  the  blush 
which  suffused  her  cheek,  in  no  degree  detracted  from  her  native 
charms. 

Captain  Wharton,  without  heeding  this  display  of  interest  in  his 
sister,  immediately  continued — “At  times  he  is  melancholy — we  tell 
him  it  must  be  love.”  Sarah  raised  her  eyes  to  the  face  of  her 
brother,  and  was  consciously  turning  them  on  the  rest  of  the  party, 
when  she  met  those  of  her  sister,  laughing  with  good  humour  and 
high  spirits,  as  she  cried,  “ Poor  man,  does  he  despair  ?” 

“Why,  no  — one  would  think  he  could  not;  the  eldest  son  of  a 
man  of  wealth,  so  handsome,  and  a Colonel.” 


THE  SPY. 


5*3 

“ Strong  reasons,  indeed,  why  he  should  prevail,”  said  Sarah,  en- 
deavouring to  laugh ; “ more  particularly  the  latter.” 

“ Let  me  tell  you,”  replied  the  Captain,  gravely,  “ a Lieutenant- 
Colonelcy  in  the  Guards  is  a very  pretty  thing.” 

“And  Colonel  "YVeilmere  a very  pretty  man,”  added  Frances. 

“Nay,  Frances,”  returned  her  sister,  “Colonel  Wellmere  was 
never  a favourite  of  yours;  he  is  too  loyal  to  his  king  to  be  agreeable 
to  your  taste  ?” 

Frances  cpiickly  answered,  “And  is  not  Henry  loyal  to  his  king  ?” 

“ Come,  come,”  said  Miss  Peyton,  “ no  difference  of  opinion  about 
the  Colonel — he  is  a favourite  of  mine.” 

“ Fanny  likes  Majors  better,”  cried  the  brother,  pulling  her  upon 
his  knee. 

“Nonsense,”  said  the  blushing  girl,  as  she  endeavoured  to  extri- 
cate herself  from  the  grasp  of  her  laughing  brother. 

“ It  surprises  me,”  continued  the  Captain,  “ that  Peyton,  when 
he  procured  the  release  of  my  father,  did  not  endeavour  to  detain 
my  sister  in  the  rebel  camp.” 

“ That  might  have  endangered  his  own  liberty,”  said  the  smiling 
girl,  resuming  her  seat;  “you  know  it  is  liberty  for  which  Major 
Dunwoodie  is  fighting.” 

“ Liberty !”  exclaimed  Sarah ; “ very  pretty  liberty  which  ex- 
changes one  master  for  fifty.” 

“ The  privilege  of  changing  masters  at  all  is  a liberty.” 

“ And  one  you  ladies  would  sometimes  be  glad  to  exercise,”  cried 
the  Captain. 

“We  like,  I believe,  to  have  the  liberty  of  choosing  who  they 
shall  be  in  the  first  place,”  said  the  laughing  girl ; “ don’t  we,  aunt 
Jeanette  ?” 

“Me!”  cried  Miss  Peyton,  starting;  “what  do  I know  of  such 
things,  child  ? you  must  ask  some  one  else,  if  you  wish  to  learn  such 
matters.” 

“Ah  ! you  would  have  us  think  you  were  never  young;  but  what 


54 


THE  SPF, 


am  I to  believe  of  all  the  tales  I have  heard  about  the  handsome 
Miss  Jeanette  Peyton  ?” 

“ Nonsense,  my  dear;  nonsense,”  said  the  aunt,  endeavouring  to 
suppress  a smile ; “ it  is  very  silly  to  believe  all  you  hear.”  _ 

“ Nonsense,  do  you  call  it?”  cried  the  Captain,  gaily;  “to  this 
hour  General  Montrose  toasts  Miss  Peyton ; I heard  him  within  the 
week,  at  Sir  Henry's  table.” 

“Why,  Henry,  you  are  as  saucy  as  your  sister;  and  to  break  in 
upon  your  folly,  I must  take  you  to  see  my  new  home-made  manu- 
factures, which  I will  be  bold  enough  to  put  in  contrast  with  the 
finery  of  Birch.” 

The  young  people  rose  to  follow  their  aunt,  in  perfect  good  hu- 
mour with  each  other  and  the  world.  On  ascending  the  stairs  to 
the  place  of  deposit  for  Miss  Peyton's  articles  of  domestic  economy, 
she  availed  herself,  however,  of  an  opportunity  to  enquire  of  her 
nephew,  whether  General  Montrose  suffered  as  much  from  the  gout, 
as  he  had  done  when  she  knew  him. 

It  is  a painful  discovery  we  make,  as  we  advance  in  life,  that  even 
those  we  most  love  are  not  exempt  from  its  frailties.  When  the 
heart  is  fresh,  and  the  view  of  the  future  unsullied  by  the  blemishes 
which  have  been  gathered  from  the  experience  of  the  past,  our  feel- 
ings are  most  holy;  we  love  to  identify  with  the  persons  of  our 
natural  friends  all  those  qualities  to  which  we  ourselves  aspire,  and 
all  those  virtues  we  have  been  taught  to  revere.  The  confidence 
with  which  we  esteem  seems  a part  of  our  nature ; and  there  is  a 
purity  thrown  around  the  affections  which  tie  us  to  our  kindred,  that 
after  life  can  seldom  hope  to  see  uninjured.  The  family  of  Mr. 
Wharton  continued  to  enjoy,  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  a happi- 
ness to  which  they  had  long  been  strangers ; and  one  that  sprung, 
in  its  younger  members,  from  the  delights  of  the  most  confident 
affection,  and  the  exchange  of  the  most  disinterested  endearments. 

Plarper  appeared  only  at  the  dinner  table,  and  he  retired  witli  the 
clot! i,  under  the  pretence  of  some  engagements  in  his  own  room 


THE  SVV, 


55 


Notwithstanding  the  confidence  created  by  his  manner,  the  family 
felt  his  absence  a relief ; for  the  visit  of  Captain  Wharton  was  ne- 
cessarily to  be  confined  to  a very  few  days,  both  from  the  limitation 
of  his  leave  of  absence,  and  the  danger  of  a discovery. 

All  dread  of  consequences,  however,  was  lost  in  the  pleasure  of 
the  meeting.  Once  or  twice  during  the  day,  Mr.  Wharton  had  sug- 
gested a doubt  as  to  the  character  of  his  unknown  guest,  and  the 
possibility  of  the  detection  of  his  son  proceeding  in  some  manner 
from  his  information : but  the  idea  was  earnestly  opposed  by  all  his 
children  ; even  Sarah  uniting  with  her  brother  and  sister  in  pleading 
warmly  in  favour  of  the  sincerity  expressed  in  the  outward  appear- 
ance of  the  traveller. 

“ Such  appearances,  my  children,”  replied  the  desponding  parent, 
“ are  but  too  often  deceitful;  when  men  like  Major  Andre  lend 
themselves  to  the  purposes  of  fraud,  it  is  idle  to  reason  from  quali- 
ties, much  less  externals.” 

“ Fraud  !”  cried  his  son  quickly ; “ surely,  sir,  you  forget  that 
Major  Andre  was  serving  his  king,  and  that  the  usages  of  war  justi- 
fied the  measure.” 

“And  did  not  the  usages  of  war  justify  his  death,  Henry  ?”  in- 
quired Frances,  speaking  in  a low  voice,  unwilling  to  abandon  what 
she  thought  the  cause  of  her  country,  and  yet  unable  to  suppress  her 
feelings  for  the  man. 

“ Never !”  exclaimed  the  young  man,  springing  from  his  seat,  and 
pacing  the  floor  rapidly — ■“  Frances,  you  shock  me ; suppose  it  should 
be  my  fate,  even  now,  to  fall  into  the  power  of  the  rebels ; you  would 
vindicate  my  execution  — perhaps  exult  in  the  cruelty  of  Washing- 
ton.” 

“ Henry !”  said  Frances,  solemnly,  quivering  with  emotion,  and 
with  a face  pale  as  death,  “you  little  know  my  heart.” 

“Pardon  me,  my  sister  — my  little  Fanny,”  cried  the  repentant 
youth,  pressing  her  to  his  bosom,  and  kissing  off  the  tears  which  had 
burst,  spite  of  her  resolution,  from  her  eyes. 


56 


THE  SPY. 


“ It  is  very  foolish  to  regard  your  hasty  words,  I know,”  said 
Frances,  extricating  herself  from  his  arms,  and  raising  her  yet  humid 
eyes  to  his  face  with  a smile ; “ but  reproach  from  those  we  love  is 
most  severe,  Henry;  particularly  — where  we  — we  think  — we 
know”  — her  paleness  gradually  gave  place  to  the  colour  of  the  rose, 
as  she  concluded  in  a low  voice,  with  her  eyes  directexi  to  the  carpet, 
“ we  are  undeserving  of  it.” 

Miss  Peyton  moved  from  her  own  seat  to  the  one  next  her  niece, 
and,  kindly  taking  her  hand,  observed,  “ You  should  not  suffer  the 
impetuosity  of  your  brother  to  affect  you  so  much ; boys,  you  know, 
are  proverbially  ungovernable.” 

“And,  from  my  conduct,  you  might  add  cruel,”  said  the  captain, 
seating  himself  on  the  other  side  of  his  sister ; “ but  on  the  subject 
of  the  death  of  Andre  we  are  all  of  us  uncommonly  sensitive.  You 
did  not  know  him ; he  was  all  that  was  brave — that  was  accomplish- 
ed — that  was  estimable.”  Frances  smiled  faintly,  and  shook  her 
head,  but  made  no  reply.  Her  brother,  observing  the  marks  of  in- 
credulity in  her  countenance,  continued — “ You  doubt  it,  and  justify 
his  death  ?” 

“ I do  not  doubt  his  worth,”  replied  the  maid,  mildly,  “ nor  his 
being  deserving  of  a more  happy  fate ; but  I cannot  doubt  the  pro- 
priety of  Washington’s  conduct.  I know  but  little  of  the  customs 
of  war,  and  wish  to  know  less ; but  with  what  hopes  of  success  could 
the  Americans  contend,  if  they  yielded  all  the  principles  which  long 
usage  had  established,  to  the  exclusive  purposes  of  the  British  ?” 

“ Why  contend  at  all  ?”  cried  Sarah,  impatiently ; “ besides,  being 
rebels,  all  their  acts  are  illegal.” 

“Women  are  but  mirrors,  which  reflect  the  images  before  them,” 
cried  the  captain,  good-naturedly.  “ In  Frances  I see  the  picture  of 
Major  Dunwoodie,  and  in  Sarah — ” 

“ Colonel  Wellmere,”  interrupted  the  younger  sister,  laughing, 
and  blushing  crimson.  “ I must  confess  I am  indebted  to  the  Major 
for  my  reasoning-  -am  I not,  aunt  Jeanette?” 


THE  SPY. 


57 


“ I believe  it  is  something  like  his  logic,  indeed,  child.” 

I plead  guilty ; and  you,  Sarah,  have  not  forgotten  the  learned 
discussions  of  Colonel  Wellmere.” 

“I  trust  I never  forget  the  right,”  said  Sarah,  emulating  her 
sister  in  colour,  and  rising,  under  the  pretence  of  avoiding  the  heat 
of  the  fire. 

Nothing  occurred  of  any  moment  during  the  rest  of  the  day;  but 
in  the  evening  Caesar  reported  that  he  had  overheard  voices  in  the 
room  of  Harper  conversing  in  a low  tone.  The  apartment  occupied 
by  the  traveller  was  the  wing  at  the  extremity  of  the  building,  oppo- 
site to  the  parlour  in  which  the  family  ordinarily  assembled ; and  it 
seems,  that  Caesar  had  established  a regular  system  of  espionage, 
with  a view  to  the  safety  of  his  young  master.  This  intelligence 
gave  some  uneasiness  to  all  the  members  of  the  family ; but  the  en- 
trance of  Harper  himself,  with  the  air  of  benevolence  and  sincerity 
which  shone  through  his  reserve,  soon  removed  the  doubts  from  the 
breast  of  all  but  Mr.  Wharton.  His  children  and  sister  believed 
Caesar  to  have  been  mistaken,  and  the  evening  passed  off  without  any 
additional  alarm. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  succeeding  day,  the  party  were  assembled 
in  the  parlour  around  the  tea-table  of  Miss  Peyton,  when  a change 
in  the  weather  occurred.  The  thin  scud , that  apparently  floated  but 
a short  distance  above  the  tops  of  the  hills,  began  to  drive  from  the 
west  towards  the  east  in  astonishing  rapidity.  The  rain  yet  continued 
to  beat  against  the  eastern  windows  of  the  house  with  fury ; in  that 
direction  the  heavens  were  dark  and  gloomy.  Frances  was  gazing  at 
the  scene  with  the  desire  of  youth  to  escape  from  the  tedium  of  con- 
finement, when,  as  if  by  magic,  all  was  still.  The  rushing  winds  had 
ceased,  the  pelting  of  the  storm  was  over,  and,  springing  to  the  win- 
dow, with  delight  pictured  in  her  face,  she  saw  a glorious  ray  of  sun- 
shine lighting  the  opposite  wood.  The  foliage  glittered  with  the 
checkered  beauties  of  the  October  leaf,  reflecting  back  from  the 
moistened  boughs  the  richest  lustre  of  an  American  autumn.  In  an 

O * 


58 


THE  SPY. 


instant,  the  piazza,  which  opened  to  the  south,  was  thronged  with  the 
inmates  of  the  cottage.  The  air  was  mild,  balmy,  and  refreshing  ; 
in  the  east,  clouds,  which  might  be  likened  to  the  retreating  masses 
of  a discomfited  army,  hung  around  the  horizon  in  awful  and  in- 
creasing darkness.  At  a little  elevation  above  the  cottage,  the  thin 
vapour  was  still  rushing  towards  the  east  with  amazing  velocity; 
while  in  the  west  the  sun  had  broken  forth  and  shed  his  parting 
radiance  on  the  scene  below,  aided  by  the  fullest  richness  of  a clear 
atmosphere  and  a freshened  herbage.  Such  moments  belong  only  to 
the  climate  of  America,  and  are  enjoyed  in  a degree  proportioned  to 
the  suddenness  of  the  contrast,  and  the  pleasure  we  experience  in 
escaping  from  the  turbulence  of  the  elements  to  the  quiet  of  a peace- 
ful evening,  and  an  air  still  as  the  softest  mornings  in  June. 

“ What  a magnificent  scene  l”  said  Harper,  in  a low  tone ; u how 
grand  ! how  awfully  sublime  ! — may  such  a quiet  speedily  await  the 
struggle  in  which  my  country  is  engaged,  and  such  a glorious  even- 
ing follow  the  day  of  her  adversity  !” 

Frances,  who  stood  next  to  him,  alone  heard  the  voice.  Turning 
in  amazement  from  the  view  to  the  speaker,  she  saw  him  standing 
oare-headed,  erect,  and  with  his  eyes  lifted  to  Heaven.  There  was 
no  longer  the  quiet  which  had  seemed  their  characteristic,  but  they 
were  lighted  into  something  like  enthusiasm,  and  a slight  flush  passed 
over  his  features. 

There  can  be  no  danger  apprehended  from  such  a man,  thought 
Frances ; such  feelings  belong  only  to  the  virtuous. 

The  musings  of  the  party  were  now  interrupted  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  pedler.  He  had  taken  advantage  of  the  first  gleam 
of  sunshine  to  hasten  to  the  cottage.  Heedless  of  wet  or  dry  as  it 
lay  in  his  path,  with  arms  swinging  to  and  fro,  and  with  his  head 
bent  forward  of  his  body  several  inches,  Harvey  Birch  approached 
the  piazza,  with  a gait  peculiarly  his  own. — It  was  the  quick,  length- 
ened pace  of  an  itinerant  vender  of  goods. 


THE  SPY. 


59 


“ Fine  evening,”  said  the  pedler,  saluting  the  party,  without  rais- 
ing his  eyes ; u quite  warm  and  agreeable  for  the  season.” 

Mr.  Wharton  assented  to  the  remark,  and  enquired  kindly  after 
the  health  of  his  father.  Harvey  heard  him,  and  continued  standing 
for  some  time  in  mood}^  silence;  but  the  question  being  repeated,  ho 
answered  with  a slight  tremour  in  his  voice  — 

He  fails  fast ; old  age  and  hardships  will  do  their  work.”  The 
pedler  turned  his  face  from  the  view  of  most  of  the  family;  but 
Frances  noticed  his  glistening  eyes  and  quivering  lip,  and,  for  the 
second  time,  Harvey  rose  in  her  estimation. 

The  valley  in  which  the  residence  of  Mr.  Wharton  stood  ran  in  a 
direction  from  north-west  to  south-east,  and  the  house  was  placed  on 
the  side  of  a hill  which  terminated  its  length  in  the  former  direction. 
A small  opening,  occasioned  by  the  receding  of  the  opposite  hill,  and 
the  fall  of  the  land  to  the  level  of  the  tide  water,  afforded  a view  of 
the  Sound*  over  the  tops  of  the  distant  woods  on  its  margin.  The 
surface  of  the  water  which  had  so  lately  been  lashing  the  shores  with 
boisterous  fury,  was  already  losing  its  ruffled  darkness  in  the  long 
and  regular  undulations  that  succeeded  a tempest,  while  the  light  air 
from  the  south-west  was  gently  touching  their  summits,  lending  its 
feeble  aid  in  stilling  the  waters.  Some  dark  spots  were  now  to  be 
distinguished,  occasionally  rising  into  view,  and  again  sinking  behind 
the  lengthened  waves  which  interposed  themselves  to  the  sight. 
They  were  unnoticed  by  all  but  the  pedler.  He  had  seated  himself 
on  the  piazza,  at  a distance  from  Harper,  and  appeared  to  have  for- 
gotten the  object  of  his  visit.  His  roving  eye,  however,  soon  caught 
a glimpse  of  these  new  objects  in  the  view,  and  he  sprang  up  with 
alacrity,  gazing  intently  towards  the  water.  He  changed  his  place, 

* An  island  more  than  forty  leagues  in  length  lies  opposite  the  coasts  of 
New  York  and  Connecticut.  The  arm  of  the  sea  which  separates  it  from 
the  main  is  technically  called  a sound,  and  in  that  part  of  the  country,  par 
excellence , The  Sound.  This  sheet  of  water  varies  in  its  breadth  from  five  to 
thirty  miles. 


60 


THE  SPY. 


glanced  his  eye  with  marked  uneasiness  on  Harper,  and  then  said 
with  great  emphasis  — 

“ The  rigTars  must  he  out  from  below.” 

“ Why  do  you  think  so  ?”  enquired  Captain  Wharton,  eagerly. 
“ God  send  it  may  be  true ; I want  their  escort  in  again.” 

“ Them  ten  whale-boats  would  not  move  so  fast  unless  they  were 
better  manned  than  common.” 

“ Perhaps,”  cried  Mr.  Wharton  in  alarm,  “they  are — they  are 
continentals  returning  from  the  island.” 

“ They  look  like  rigTars,”  said  the  pedler,  with  meaning. 

“ Look !”  repeated  the  captain,  u there  is  nothing  but  spots  to  be 
seen.” 

Harvey  disregarded  his  observation,  but  seemed  to  be  soliloquizing, 
as  he  said  in  an  under  tone,  “ They  came  out  before  the  gale — have 
laid  on  the  island  these  two  days — horse  are  on  the  road — there  will 
soon  be  fighting  near  us.”  During  this  speech,  Birch  several  times 
glanced  his  eye  towards  Harper,  with  evident  uneasiness,  but  no  cor- 
responding emotion  betrayed  any  interest  of  that  gentleman  in  the 
scene.  He  stood  in  silent  contemplation  of  the  view,  and  seemed 
enjoying  the  change  in  the  air.  As  Birch  concluded,  however,  Har- 
per turned  to  his  host,  and  mentioned  that  his  business  would  not 
admit  of  unnecessary  delay ; he  would,  therefore,  avail  himself  of 
the  fine  evening  to  ride  a few  miles  on  his  journey.  Mr.  Wharton 
made  many  professions  of  regret  at  losing  so  agreeable  an  inmate ; 
but  was  too  mindful  of  his  duty  not  to  speed  the  parting  guest,  and 
orders  were  instantly  given  to  that  effect. 

The  uneasiness  of  the  pedler  increased  in  a manner  for  which 
nothing  apparent  could  account ; his  eye  was  constantly  wandering 
towards  the  lower  end  of  the  vale,  as  if  in  expectation  of  some  inter- 
ruption from  that  quarter.  At  length  Caesar  appeared,  leading  the 
noble  beast  which  was  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  traveller.  The  ped- 
ler officiously  assisted  to  tighten  the  girths,  and  fasten  the  blue  cloak 
and  vallise  to  the  mail-straps. 


THE  SPY. 


<H 


Every  preparation  being  completed,  Harper  proceeded  to  take  his 
leave.  To  Sarah  and  her  aunt  he  paid  his  compliments  with  ease 
and  kindness ; but  when  he  came  to  Frances,  he  paused  a moment, 
while  his  face  assumed  an  expression  of  more  than  ordinary  benig- 
nity. Ilis  eye  repeated  the  blessing  which  had  before  fallen  from 
his  lips,  and  the  girl  felt  her  cheeks  glow,  and  her  heart  beat,  with 
a quicker  pulsation,  as  he  spoke  his  adieus.  There  was  a mutual 
exchange  of  polite  courtesy  between  the  host  and  his  parting  guest ; 
but  as  Harper  frankly  offered  his  hand  to  Captain  Wharton,  he  re- 
marked, in  a manner  of  great  solemnity  — 

“ The  step  you  have  undertaken  is  one  of  much  danger,  and  dis- 
agreeable consequences  to  yourself  may  result  from  it;  in  such  a 
case,  I may  have  it  in  my  power  to  prove  the  gratitude  I owe  your 
family  for  its  kindness.” 

u Surely,  sir,”  cried  the  father,  losing  sight  of  delicacy  in  appre- 
hension for  his  child,  “ you  will  keep  secret  the  discovery  which  your 
being  in  my  house  has  enabled  you  to  make.” 

Harper  turned  quickly  to  the  speaker,  and  then,  losing  the  stern- 
ness which  had  begun  to  gather  on  his  countenance,  he  answered 
mildly^  u I have  learnt  nothing  in  your  family,  sir,  of  which  I was 
ignorant  before ; but  your  son  is  safer  from  my  knowledge  of  his 
visit  than  he  would  be  without  it.” 

He  bowed  to  the  whole  party,  and  without  taking  any  notice  of 
the  pedler,  other  than  by  simply  thanking  him  for  his  attentions, 
mounted  his  horse,  and,  riding  steadily  and  gracefully  through  the 
little  gate,  was  soon  lost  behind  the  hill  which  sheltered  the  valley 
to  the  northward. 

The  eyes  of  the  pedler  followed  the  retiring  figure  of  the  horseman 
so  long  as  it  continued  within  view,  and  as  it  disappeared  from  his 
sight,  he  drew  a long  and  heavy  sigh,  as  if  relieved  from  a load  of 
apprehension.  The  Whartons  had  meditated  in  silence  on  the  cha- 
racter and  visit  of  their  unknown  guest  for  the  same  period,  when 
the  father  approached  Birch,  and  observed  — 


62 


T 1£  E S P V . 


“ I am  yet.  your  debtor,  Harvey,  for  the  tobacco  you  were  so  kind 
as  to  bring  me  from  the  city.” 

“ If  it  should  not  prove  so  good  as  the  first,”  replied  the  pedler, 
fixing  a last  and  lingering  look  in  the  direction  of  Harper’s  route, 
“ it  is  owing  to  the  scarcity  of  the  article.” 

“ I like  it  much,”  continued  the  other;  “but  you  have  forgotten 
to  name  the  price.” 

The  countenance  of  the  trader  changed,  and,  losing  its  expression 
of  deep  care  in  a natural  acuteness,  he  answered  — 

“ It  is  hard  to  say  what  ought  to  be  the  price ; I believe  I must 
leave  it  to  your  own  generosity.” 

Mr.  Wharton  had  taken  a hand  well  filled  with  the  images 
of  Carolus  III.  from  his  pocket,  and  now  extended  it  towards  Birch 
with  three  of  the  pieces  between  his  finger  and  thumb.  Harvey’s 
eyes  twinkled  as  he  contemplated  the  reward ; and  rolling  over  in 
his  mouth  a large  quantity  of  the  article  in  question,  coolly  stretched 
forth  his  hand,  into  which  the  dollars  fell  with  a most  agreeable 
sound ; but  not  satisfied  with  the  transient  music  of  their  fall,  the 
pedler  gave  each  piece  in  succession  a ring  on  the  stepping-stone  of 
the  piazza,  before  he  consigned  it  to  the  safe  keeping  of  a huge  deer- 
skin purse,  which  vanished  from  the  sight  of  the  spectators  so  dex- 
terously, that  not  one  of  them  could  have  told  about  what  part  of 
his  person  it  was  secreted. 

This  very  material  point  in  his  business  so  satisfactorily  conn 
pleted,  the  pedler  rose  from  his  seat  on  the  floor  of  the  piazza,  and 
approached  to  where  Captain  Wharton  stood,  supporting  his  sisters 
on  either  arm,  as  they  listened  with  the  lively  interest  of  affection  to 
his  conversation. 

The  agitation  of  the  preceding  incidents  had  caused  such  an 
expenditure  of  the  juices  which  had  become  necessary  to  the  mouth 
of  the  pedler,  that  a new  supply  of  the  weed  was  requii  ed  before  he 
could  turn  his  attention  to  business  of  lesser  moment.  This  done, 
he  asked  abruptly  — 


THE  SPY. 


03 


cc  Captain  Wharton,  do  you  go  in  to-night  V 1 
u No  !”  said  the  Captain,  laconically,  and  looking  at  his  lovely 
burdens  with  great  affection.  u Mr.  Birch,  would  you  have  me 
leave  such  company  so  soon,  when  I may  never  enjoy  it  again  ?” 
u Brother  ! ” said  Frances,  “jesting  on  such  a subject  is  cruel.” 
u I rather  guess,”  continued  the  pedler,  coolly,  u now  the  storm 
is  over,  the  Skinners  may  be  moving ; you  had  better  shorten  your 
visit,  Captain  Wharton.” 

“ Oh  !”  cried  the  British  officer,  “ a few  guineas  will  buy  off  those 
rascals  at  any  time,  should  I meet  them.  No,  no,  Mr.  Birch,  here 
I stay  until  morning.” 

u Money  could  not  liberate  Major  Andre,”  said  the  pedler,  dryly. 
Both  the  sisters  now  turned  to  the  Captain  in  alarm,  and  the 
elder  observed  — 

“ You  had  better  take  the  advice  of  Harvey;  rest  assured,  bro- 
ther, his  opinion  in  such  matters  ought  not  to  be  disregarded.” 

“ Yes,”  added  the  younger,  u if,  as  I suspect,  Mr.  Birch  assisted 
you  to  come  here,  your  safety,  our  happiness,  dear  Henry,  requires 
you  to  listen  to  him  now.” 

“ I brought  myself  out,  and  can  take  myself  in,”  said  the  Captain, 
positively ; u our  bargain  went  no  further  than  to  procure  my  dis- 
guise, and  to  let  me  know  when  the  coast  was  clear;  and  in  the 
latter  particular,  you  were  mistaken,  Mr.  Birch.” 

“ I was,”  said  the  pedler,  with  some  interest,  “ and  the  greater  is 
the  reason  why  you  should  get  back  to-night;  the  pass  I gave  you 
will  serve  but  once.” 

“ Cannot  you  forge  another  ?” 

The  pale  cheek  of  the  trader  showed  an  unusual  colour,  but  he 
continued  silent,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  until  the  young 
man  added,  with  great  positiveness  — “ Here  I stay  this  night,  come 
what  will.” 

“ Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  pedler,  with  great  deliberation  and 
marked  emphasis,  u beware  a tall  Virginian,  with  huge  whiskers ; 


64 


THE  SPY. 


lie  is  below  you  to  my  knowledge;  the  devil  can't  deceive  him;  1 
never  could  but  once." 

“Let  him  beware  of  me/'  said  Wharton,  haughtily;  “but.  Mr. 
Birch,  I exonerate  you  from  further  responsibility." 

“ Will  you  give  me  that  in  writing  ?"  asked  the  cautious  Birch. 

“ Oh ! cheerfully,"  cried  the  Captain,  with  a laugh ; “ Caesar ! 
pen,  ink,  and  paper,  while  I write  a discharge  for  my  trusty  attend- 
ant, Harvey  Birch,  pedler,  &c.  &c. 

The  implements  for  writing  were  produced,  and  the  Captain,  with 
great  gaiety,  wrote  the  desired  acknowledgment  in  language  of  his 
own ; which  the  pedler  took,  and  carefully  depositing  it  by  the  side 
of  the  images  of  his  Catholic  Majesty,  made  a sweeping  bow  to  the 
whole  family,  and  departed  as  he  had  approached.  He  was  soon 
seen  at  a distance,  stealing  into  the  door  of  his  own  humble  dwelling. 

The  father  and  sisters  of  the  Captain  were  too  much  rejoiced  in 
retaining  the  young  man,  to  express,  or  even  entertain,  the  appre- 
hensions his  situation  might  reasonably  excite;  but  on  retiring  to 
their  evening  repast,  a cooler  reflection  induced  the  Captain  to  think 
of  changing  his  mind.  Unwilling  to  trust  himself  out  of  the  pro- 
tection of  his  father’s  domains,  the  young  man  despatched  Caesar  to 
desire  another  interview  with  Harvey.  The  black  soon  returned 
with  the  unwelcome  intelligence  that  it  was  now  too  late.  Katy  had 
told  him  that  Harvey  must  be  miles  on  his  road  to  the  northward, 
“ having  left  home  at  early  candle-light  with  his  pack."  Nothing 
now  remained  to  the  Captain  but  patience,  until  the  morning  should 
afford  further  opportunity  of  deciding  on  the  best  course  for  him  to 
pursue. 

“ This  Harvey  Birch,  with  his  knowing  looks  and  portentous 
warnings,  gives  me  more  uneasiness  than  I am  willing  to  own,"  said 
Captain  Wharton,  rousing  himself  from  a fit  of  musing,  in  which 
the  danger  of  his  situation  made  no  small  part  of  his  meditations. 

“ How  is  it  that  he  is  able  to  travel  to  and  fro  in  these  difficult 
times,  without  molestation?"  enquired  Miss  Peyton. 


THE  SPY. 


65 


“ Why  the  rebels  suffer  him  to  escape  so  easily,  is  more  than  I 
can  answer,”  returned  the  other ; “ but  Sir  Henry  would  not  permit 
a hair  of  his  head  to  be  injured.” 

“ Indeed !”  cried  Frances,  with  interest ; “ is  he  then  known  to 
Sir  Henry  Clinton?” 

“At  least  he  ought  to  be.” 

“ Do  you  think,  my  son,”  asked  Mr.  Wharton,  “ there  is  no  dan- 
ger of  his  betraying  you?” 

“ Why  — no ; I reflected  on  that  before  I trusted  myself  to  his 
power,”  said  the  Captain,  thoughtfully : “he  seems  to  be  faithful  in 
matters  of  business.  The  danger  to  himself,  should  he  return  to 
the  city,  would  prevent  such  an  act  of  villany.” 

“ I think,”  said  Frances,  adopting  the  manner  of  her  brother, 
“ Harvey  Birch  is  not  without  good  feelings ; at  least,  he  has  the 
appearance  of  them  at  times.” 

“ Oh !”  cried  his  sister,  exulting,  “ he  has  loyalty,  and  that  with 
me  is  a cardinal  virtue.” 

“'I  am  afraid,”  said  her  brother,  laughing,  “love  of  money  is  a 
stronger  passion  than  love  of  his  king.” 

“ Then,”  said  the  father,  “ you  cannot  be  safe  while  in  his  power 
— for  no  love  will  withstand  the  temptation  of  money,  when  offered 
to  avarice.” 

“ Surely,  sir,”  cried  the  youth,  recovering  his  gaiety,  “ there  must 
be  one  love  that  can  resist  any  thing  — is  there  not,  Fanny  ?” 
“Here  is  your  candle,  you  kesp  your  father  up  bej^ond  his  usual 
hour.” 


CHAPTER  V. 


Through  Solway  sands,  through  Taross  moss, 

Blindfold,  he  knew  the  paths  to  cross; 

By  wily  turns,  by  desperate  bounds, 

Had  baffled  Percy’s  best  blood-hounds. 

In  Eske,  or  Liddel,  fords  were  none, 

But  he  would  ride  them,  one  by  one ; 

Alike  to  him  was  time,  or  tide, 

December’s  snow,  or  July’s  pride; 

Alike  to  him  was  tide,  or  time, 

Moonless  midnight,  or  matin  prime. 

Walter  Scott. 

All  the  members  of  the  Wharton  family  laid  their  heads  on  their 
pillows  that  night,  with  a foreboding  of  some  interruption  to  their 
ordinary  quiet.  Uneasiness  kept  the  sisters  from  enjoying  their 
usual  repose,  and  they  rose  from  their  beds,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, unrefreshed,  and  almost  without  having  closed  their  eyes. 

On  taking  an  eager  and  hasty  survey  of  the  valley  from  the  win- 
dows of  their  room,  nothing,  however,  but  its  usual  serenity  was  to 
be  seen.  It  was  glittering  with  the  opening  brilliancy  of  one  of 
those  lovely,  mild  days,  which  occur  about  the  time  of  the  falling  of 
the  leaf ; and  which,  by  their  frequency,  class  the  American  autumn 
with  the  most  delightful  seasons  of  other  countries.  We  have  no 
spring;  vegetation  seems  to  leap  into  existence,  instead  of  creeping, 
as  in  the  same  latitudes  of  the  old  world : but  how  gracefully  it 
retires ! September,  October,  even  November  and  December,  com- 
pose the  season  for  enjoyment  in  the  open  air;  they  have  their 
storms,  but  they  are  distinct,  and  not  of  long  continuance,  leaving  a 
clear  atmosphere  and  a cloudless  sky. 


THE  SPY. 


67 


As  nothing  could  be  seen  likely  to  interrupt  the  enjoyments  and 
harmony  of  such  a day,  the  sisters  descended  to  the  parlour,  with  a 
returning  confidence  in  their  brother’s  security,  and  their  own  happi- 
ness. 

The  family  were  early  in  assembling  around  the  breakfast  table ; 
and  Miss  Peyton,  with  a little  of  that  minute  precision  which  creeps 
into  the  habits  of  single  life,  had  pleasantly  insisted  that  the  absence 
of  her  nephew  should  in  no  manner  interfere  with  the  regular  hours 
she  had  established;  consequently,  the  party  were  already  seated 
when  the  Captain  made  his  appearance ; though  the  untasted  coffee 
sufficiently  proved,  that  by  none  of  his  relatives  was  his  absence  dis- 
regarded. 

“ I think  I did  much  better,”  he  cried,  taking  a chair  between  his 
sisters,  and  receiving  their  offered  salutes,  “ to  secure  a good  bed  and 
such  a plentiful  breakfast,  instead  of  trusting  to  the  hospitality  of 
that  renowned  corps,  the  Cow-Boys.” 

“ If  you  could  sleep,”  said  Sarah,  “ you  were  more  fortunate  than 
Frances  and  myself ; every  murmur  of  the  night  air  sounded  to  me 
like  the  approach  of  the  rebel  army.” 

“ Why,”  said  the  Captain,  laughing,  “ I do  acknowledge  a little 
inquietude  myself — but  how  was  it  with  you  ?”  turning  to  his  younger 
and  evidently  favourite  sister,  and  tapping  her  cheek ; “ did  you  see 
banners  in  the  clouds,  and  mistake  Miss  Peyton’s  AKolian  harp  for 
rebellious  music  ?” 

“Nay,  Henry,”  rejoined  the  maid,  looking  at  him  affectionately, 
“ much  as  I love  my  own  country,  the  approach  of  her  troops  just 
now  would  give  me  great  pain.” 

The  brother  made  no  reply ; but  returning  the  fondness  expressed 
in  her  eye  by  a look  of  fraternal  tenderness,  he  gently  pressed  her 
hand  in  silence ; when  Caesar,  who  had  participated  largely  in  the 
anxiety  of  the  family,  and  who  had  risen  with  the  dawn,  and  kept  a 
vigilant  watch  on  the  surrounding  objects,  as  he  stood  gazing  from 


68 


THE  SPY. 


one  of  the  windows,  exclaimed  with  a face  that  approached  to  some« 
thing  like  the  hues  of  a white  man — 

“Run  — massa  Harry — run — if  he  love  old  Csesar,  run  — here 
come  a rebel  horse.” 

“ Run  !”  repeated  the  British  officer,  gathering  himself  up  in  mili- 
tary pride;  “ no,  Mr.  Caesar,  running  is  not  my  trade.”  While  speak- 
ing, he  walked  deliberately  to  the  window,  where  the  family  were 
already  collected  in  the  greatest  consternation. 

At  the  distance  of  more  than  a mile,  about  fifty  dragoons  were  to 
be  seen,  winding  down  one  of  the  lateral  entrances  of  the  valley.  In 
advance  with  an  officer,  was  a man  attired  in  the  dress  of  a country- 
man, who  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  cottage.  A small  party  now  ^ 
left  the  main  body,  and  moved  rapidly  towards  the  object  of  their 
destination. 

On  reaching  the  road  which  led  through  the  bottom  of  the  valley, 
they  turned  their  horses’  heads  to  the  north.  The  Whartons  con- 
tinued chained  in  breathless  silence  to  the  spot,  watching  their  move- 
ments, when  the  party,  having  reached  the  dwelling  of  Birch,  made 
a rapid  circle  around  his  grounds,  and  in  an  instant  his  house  was 
surrounded  by  a dozen  sentinels. 

Two  or  three  of  the  dragoons  now  dismounted  and  disappeared : 
in  a few  minutes,  however,  they  returned  to  the  yard,  followed  by 
Katy,  from  whose  violent  gesticulations,  it  was  evident  that  matters 
of  no  trifling  concern  were  on  the  carpet.  A short  communication 
with  the  loquacious  housekeeper  followed  the  arrival  of  the  main 
body  of  the  troop,  and  the  advanced  party  remounting,  the  whole 
moved  towards  the  Locusts  with  great  speed. 

As  yet  none  of  the  family  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  de- 
vise any  means  of  security  for  Captain  Wharton ; but  the  danger 
now  became  too  pressing  to  admit  of  longer  delay,  and  various  means 
of  secreting  him  were  hastily  proposed ; but  they  were  all  haughtily 
rejected  by  the  young  man,  as  unworthy  of  his  character.  It  was 
too  late  to  retreat  to  the  woods  in  the  rear  of  the  cottage,  for  he 


THE  SPY* 


GO 


would  unavoidably  be  seen,  and,  followed  by  a troop  of  horse,  as  in- 
evitably taken. 

At  length,  his  sisters,  with  trembling  hands,  replaced  his  original 
disguise,  the  instruments  of  which  had  been  carefully  kept  at  hand 
by  Caesar,  in  expectation  of  some  sudden  emergency. 

This  arrangement  was  hastily  and  imperfectly  completed,  as  the 
dragoons  entered  the  lawn  and  orchard  of  the  Locusts,  riding  with 
the  rapidity  of  the  wind ; and  in  their  turn  the  Whartons  were  sur- 
rounded. 

Nothing  remained  now,  but  to  meet  the  impending  examination 
with  as  much  indifference  as  the  family  could  assume.  The  leader 
of  the  horse  dismounted,  and,  followed  by  a couple  of  his  men,  he 
approached  the  outer  door  of  the  building,  which  was  slowly  and 
reluctantly  opened  for  his  admission  by  Caesar.  The  heavy  tread 
of  the  trooper,  as  he  followed  the  black  to  the  door  of  the  parlour, 
rang  in  the  ears  of  the  females  as  it  approached  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  drove  the  blood  from  their  faces  to  their  hearts,  with  a chill  that 
nearly  annihilated  feeling. 

A man,  whose  colossal  stature  manifested  the  possession  of  vast 
strength,  entered  the  room,  and  removing  his  cap,  he  saluted  the 
family  with  a mildness  his  appearance  did  not  indicate  as  belonging 
to  his  nature.  His  dark  hair  hung  around  his  brow  in  profusion, 
though  stained  with  the  powder  which  was  worn  at  that  day,  and 
his  face  was  nearly  hid  in  the  whiskers  by  which  it  was  disfigured. 
Still,  the  expression  of  his  eye,  though  piercing,  was  not  bad,  and 
his  voice,  though  deep  and  powerful,  was  far  from  unpleasant. 
Frances  ventured  to  throw  a timid  glance  at  his  figure  as  he  entered, 
and  saw  at  once  the  man,  from  whose  scrutiny,  Harvey  Birch  had 
warned  them,  there  was  so  much  to  be  apprehended. 

“ You  have  no  cause  for  alarm,  ladies/'  said  the  officer,  pausing  a 
moment,  and  contemplating  the  pale  faces  around  him  — “ my  busi- 
ness will  be  confined  to  a few  questions,  which,  if  freely  answered, 
will  instantly  remove  us  from  your  dwelling." 


70 


THE  Sl’Y. 


“ And  what  may  they  be,  sir  Y 9 stammered  Mr  Wharton,  rising 
from  his  chair,  and  waiting  anxiously  for  the  reply. 

“ Has  there  been  a strange  gentleman  staying  with  you  during 
the  storm  ?”  continued  the  dragoon,  speaking  with  interest,  and  in 
some  degree  sharing  in  the  evident  anxiety  of  the  father. 

u This  gentleman  — here  — favoured  us  with  his  company  during 
the  rain,  and  has  not  yet  departed.” 

u This  gentleman  !”  repeated  the  other,  turning  to  Captain  Whar- 
ton, and  contemplating  his  figure  for  a moment,  until  the  anxiety 
of  his  countenance  gave  place  to  a lurking  smile.  He  approached  J 
the  youth  with  an  air  of  comic  gravity,  and  with  a low  bow,  con- 
tinued — “ I am  sorry  for  the  severe  cold  you  have  in  your  head, 
sir.” 

“ I !”  exclaimed  the  Captain,  in  surprise ; “ I have  no  cold  in  my 
head.” 

u I fancied  it  then,  from  seeing  you  had  covered  such  handsome 
black  locks  with  that  ugly  old  wig;  it  was  my  mistake,  you  will 
please  to  pardon  it.” 

Mr.  Wharton  groaned  aloud ; but  the  ladies,  ignorant  of  the  extent 
of  their  visitor’s  knowledge,  remained  in  trembling  yet  rigid  silence. 

The  Captain  himself  moved  his  hand  involuntarily  to  his  head,  and 
discovered  that  the  trepidation  of  his  sisters  had  left  some  of  his 
natural  hair  exposed.  The  dragoon  watched  the  movement  with  a 
continued  smile,  when,  seeming  to  recollect  himself,  turning  to  the 
father,  he  proceeded  — 

“ Then,  Sir,  I am  to  understand  there  has  not  been  a Mr.  Harper 
here,  within  the  week.” 

u Mr.  Harper,”  echoed  the  other,  feeling  a load  removed  from  his 
heart  — u yes,  — I had  forgotten ; but  he  is  gone ; and  if  there  be 
any  thing  wrong  in  his  character,  we  are  in  entire  ignorance  of  it  — 
to  me  he  was  a total  stranger.” 

“ You  have  but  little  to  apprehend  from  his  character,”  answered 
the  dragoon  dryly ; “ but  he  is  gone  — how  — when  — and  whither  ?” 


THE  SPY. 


7l 


“ He  departed  as  he  arrived,”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  gathering  re- 
newed confidence  from  the  manner  of  the  trooper ; rc  on  horseback, 
last  evening,  and  he  took  the  northern  road.” 

The  officer  listened  to  him  with  intense  interest,  his  countenance 
gradually  lighting  into  a smile  of  pleasure ; and  the  instant  Mr. 
Wharton  concluded  his  laconic  reply,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  left 
the  apartment.  The  Whartons,  judging  from  his  manner,  thought 
he  was  about  to  proceed  in  quest  of  the  object  of  his  enquiries. 
They  observed  the  dragoon,  on  gaining  the  lawn,  in  earnest,  and 
apparently  pleased  conversation  with  his  two  subalterns.  In  a few 
moments  orders  were  given  to  some  of  the  troop,  and  horsemen  left 
the  valley,  at  full  speed,  by  its  various  roads. 

The  suspense  of  the  party  within,  who  were  all  highly  interested 
witnesses  of  this  scene,  was  shortly  terminated ; for  the  heavy  tread 
of  the  dragoon  soon  announced  his  second  approach.  He  bowed 
again  politely  as  he  re-entered  the  room,  and  walking  up  to  Captain 
Wharton,,  said,  with  comic  gravity  — 

“Now,  sir,  my  principal  business  being  done,  may  I beg  to  exa- 
mine the  quality  of  that  wig  ?” 

The  British  officer  imitated  the  manner  of  the  other,  as  he  delibe- 
rately uncovered  his  head,  and  handing  him  the  wig,  observed,  “ 1 
hope,  sir,  it  is  to  your  liking.” 

“ I cannot,  without  violating  the  truth,  say  it  is,”  returned  the 
dragoon  ; “I  prefer  your  ebony  hair,  from  which  you  seem  to  have 
combed  the  powder  with  great  industry.  But  that  must  have  been 
a sad  hurt  you  have  received  under  this  enormous  black  patch.” 

“ You  appear  so  close  an  observer  of  things,  I should  like  your 
opinion  of  it,  sir,”  said  Henry,  removing  the  silk,  and  exhibiting 
the  cheek  free  from  blemish. 

“ Upon  my  word,  you  improve  most  rapidly  in  externals,”  added 
the  trooper,  preserving  his  muscles  in  inflexible  gravity  : “ if  I could 
but  persuade  you  to  exchange  this  old  surtout  for  that  handsome 
blue  coat  by  your  side,  I think  I never  could  witness  a more  agree 


72 


THE  SPY. 


able  metamorphosis,  since  I was  changed  myself  from  a lieutenant 
to  a captain.” 

Young  Wharton  very  composedly  did  as  was  required;  and  stood 
an  extremely  handsome,  well-dressed  young  man.  The  dragoon 
looked  at  him  for  a minute  with  the  drollery  that  characterised  his 
manner,  and  then  continued  — 

“ This  is  a new  comer  in  the  scene ; it  is  usual,  you  know,  for 
strangers  to  be  introduced;  I am  Captain  Lawton,  of  the  Virginia 
horse.” 

“ And  I,  sir,  am  Captain  Wharton,  of  his  Majesty’s  60th  regi- 
ment of  foot,”  returned  Henry,  bowing  stiffly,  and  recovering  his 
natural  manner. 

The  countenance  of  Lawton  changed  instantly,  and  his  assumed 
quaintness  vanished.  He  viewed  the  figure  of  Captain  Wharton,  as 
he  stood  proudly  swelling  with  a pride  that  disdained  further  con- 
cealment, and  exclaimed,  with  great  earnestness  — 

“ Captain  Wharton,  from  my  soul  I pity  you !” 

“ Oh  ! then,”  cried  the  father  in  agony,  “ if  you  pity  him,  dear 
sir,  why  molest  him  ? he  is  not  a spy ; nothing  but  a desire  to  see 
his  friends  prompted  him  to  venture  so  far  from  the  regular  army  in 
disguise.  Leave  him  with  us ; there  is  no  reward,  no  sum,  which  I 
will  not  cheerfully  pay.” 

“ Sir,  your  anxiety  for  your  friend  excuses  your  language,”  said 
Lawton,  haughtily;  “but  you  forget  I am  a Virginian,  and  a gen- 
tleman.” Turning  to  the  young  man,  he  continued  — “Were  you 
ignorant,  Captain  Wharton,  that  our  pickets  have  been  below  you 
for  several  days?” 

“ I did  not  know  it  until  I reached  them,  and  it  was  then  too  late 
to  retreat,”  said  Wharton,  sullenly  “ I came  out,  as  my  father  has 
mentioned,  to  see  my  friends,  understanding  your  parties  to  be  at 
Peekskill,  and  near  the  Highlands,  or  surely  I would  not  have  ven- 
tured.” 

“ All  this  may  be  very  true ; but  the  affair  of  Andre  has  made  us 


THE  STY. 


73 


on  the  alert.  When  treason  reaches  the  grade  of  general  officers, 
Captain  Wharton,  it  behoves  the  friends  of  liberty  to  be  vigilant.” 
Henry  bowed  to  this  remark  in  distant  silence,  but  Sarah  ventured 
to  urge  something  in  behalf  of  her  brother.  The  dragoon  heard 
her  politely,  and  apparently  with  commiseration ; but  willing  to  avoid 
useless  and  embarrassing  petitions,  he  answered  mildly  — 

“I  am  not  the  commander  of  the  party,  madam;  Major  Dun- 
woodie  will  decide  what  must  be  done  with  your  brother;  at  all 
events,  he  will  receive  nothing  but  kind  and  gentle  treatment.” 
u Dunwoodie !”  exclaimed  Frances,  with  a face,  in  which  the 
roses  contended  for  the  mastery  with  the  paleness  of  apprehension ; 
“ thank  God  ! then  Henry  is  safe !” 

Lawton  regarded  her  with  a mingled  expression  of  pity  and  admi- 
ration ; then  shaking  his  head  doubtingly,  he  continued — 

u I hope  so ; and  with  your  permission,  we  will  leave  the  matter 
for  his  decision.” 

The  colour  of  Frances  changed  from  the  paleness  of  fear  to  the 
glow  of  hope.  Her  dread  on  behalf  of  her  brother  was  certainly 
greatly  diminished ; yet  her  form  shook,  her  breathing  became  short 
and  irregular,  and  her  whole  frame  gave  tokens  of  extraordinary 
agitation.  Her  eyes  rose  from  the  floor  to  the  dragoon,  and  were 
again  fixed  immovably  on  the  carpet — she  evidently  wished  to  utter 
something,  but  was  unequal  to  the  effort.  Miss  Peyton  was  a close 
observer  of  these  movements  of  her  niece,  and  advancing  with  an  air 
of  feminine  dignity,  enquired  — 

u Then,  sir,  we  may  expect  the  pleasure  of  Major  Dunwoodie’s 
company  shortly  ?” 

“ Immediately,  madam,”  answered  the  dragoon,  withdrawing  his 
admiring  gaze  from  the  person  of  Frances ; u expresses  are  already 
on  the  road  to  announce  to  him  our  situation,  and  the  intelligence 
will  speedily  bring  him  to  this  valley ; unless,  indeed,  some  private 
reasons  may  exist  to  make  a visit  particularly  unpleasant.” 
u We  shall  always  be  happy  to  see  Major  Dunwoodie.” 

4 


74 


THE  SPY. 


u Oil ! doubtless ; he  is  a general  favourite.  May  I presume  on 
it  so  far  as  to  ask  leave  to  dismount  and  refresh  my  men,  who  com- 
pose a part  of  his  squadron?” 

There  was  a manner  about  the  trooper,  that  would  have  made  the 
omission  of  such  a request  easily  forgiven  by  Mr.  Wharton,  but  he 
was  fairly  entrapped  by  his  own  eagerness  to  conciliate,  and  it  was 
useless  to  withhold  a consent  which  he  thought  would  probably  ne 
extorted ; he,  therefore,  made  the  most  of  necessity,  and  gave  such 
orders  as  would  facilitate  the  wishes  of  Captain  Lawton. 

The  officers  were  invited  to  take  their  morning’s  repast  at  the 
family  breakfast  table,  and  having  made  their  arrangements  without, 
the  invitation  was  frankly  accepted.  None  of  the  watchfulness, 
which  was  so  necessary  to  their  situation,  was  neglected  by  the  wary 
partisan.  Patroles  were  seen  on  the  distant  hills,  taking  their  pro- 
tecting circuit  around  their  comrades,  who  were  enjoying,  in  the 
midst  of  dangers,  a security  that  can  only  spring  from  the  watchful- 
ness of  discipline,  and  the  indifference  of  habit. 

The  addition  to  the  party  at  Mr.  Wharton’s  table  was  only  three, 
and  they  were  all  of  them  men  who,  under  the  rough  exterior  in- 
duced by  actual  and  arduous  service,  concealed  the  manners  of  gen- 
tlemen. Consequently,  the  interruption  to  the  domestic  privacy  of 
the  family  was  marked  by  the  observance  of  strict  decorum.  The 
ladies  left  the  table  to  their  guests,  who  proceeded,  without  much 
superfluous  diffidence,  to  do  proper  honours  to  the  hospitality  of  Mr 
Wharton. 

At  length,  Captain  Lawton  suspended  for  a moment  his  violent 
attacks  on  the  buckwheat  cakes,  to  enquire  of  the  master  of  the 
house,  if  there  was  not  a pedler  of  the  name  of  Birch  who  lived  in 
the  valley  at  times. 

“ At  times  only,  I believe,  sir,”  replied  Mr.  Wharton,  cautiously  : 
“ he  is  seldom  here ; I may  say  I never  see  him.” 

u That  is  strange,  too,”  said  the  trooper,  looking  at  the  discon- 
certed host  intently,  u considering  he  is  your  next  neighbour:  he 


THE  STY. 


75 

must  be  quite  domestic,  sir ; and  to  the  ladies  it  must  be  somewhat 
inconvenient.  I doubt  not  that  that  muslin  in  the  window-seat  cost 
twice  as  much  as  he  would  have  asked  them  for  it.” 

Mr.  Wharton  turned  in  consternation,  and  saw  some  of  the  recent 
purchases  scattered  about  the  room. 

The  two  subalterns  struggled  to  conceal  their  smiles;  but  the 
Captain  resumed  his  breakfast  with  an  eagerness  that  created  a 
doubt,  whether  he  ever  expected  to  enjoy  another.  The  necessity 
of  a supply  from  the  dominion  of  Dinah  soon,  however,  afforded 
another  respite,  of  which  Lawton  availed  himself. 

“ I had  a wish  to  break  this  Mr.  Birch  of  his  unsocial  habits,  and 
gave  him  a call  this  morning,”  he  said : “ had  I found  him  within, 
I should  have  placed  him  where  he  would  enjoy  life  in  the  midst  of 
society,  for  a short  time  at  least.” 

“And  where  might  that  be,  sir  ?”  asked  Mr.  Wharton,  conceiving 
it  necessary  to  say  something. 

“ The  guard-room,”  said  the  trooper,  dryly. 

“ What  is  the  offence  of  poor  Birch  ?”  asked  Miss  Peyton,  hand- 
ing the  dragoon  a fourth  dish  of  coffee. 

“ Poor  !”  cried  the  Captain ; “ if  he  is  poor,  King  George  is  a bad 
paymaster.” 

“Yes,  indeed,”  said  one  of  the  subalterns,  “his  Majesty  owes  him 
a dukedom.” 

“And  congress  a halter,”  continued  the  commanding  officer,  com- 
mencing anew  on  a fresh  supply  of  the  cakes. 

“ I am  sorry,”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  “ that  any  neighbour  of  mine 
should  incur  the  displeasure  of  our  rulers.” 

“If  I catch  him,”  cried  the  dragoon,  while  buttering  another 
cake,  “ he  will  dangle  from  the  limbs  of  one  of  his  namesakes.” 

“ He  would  make  no  bad  ornament,  suspended  from  one  of  those 
locusts  before  his  own  door,”  added  the  Lieutenant. 

“Never  mind,”  continued  the  Captain;  “I  will  have  him  yet 
before  I'm  a major.” 


76 


THE  SPY. 


As  the  language  of  these  officers  appeared  to  be  sincere,  and  such 
as  disappointed  men  in  their  rough  occupations  are  but  too  apt  to 
use,  the  Whartons  thought  it  prudent  to  discontinue  the  subject. 
It  was  no  new  intelligence  to  any  of  the  family,  that  Harvey  Birch 
was  distrusted,  and  greatly  harassed,  by  the  American  army.  His 
escapes  from  their  hands,  no  less  than  his  imprisonments,  had  been 
the  conversation  of  the  country  in  too  many  instances,  and  under 
circumstances  of  too  great  mystery,  to  be  easily  forgotten.  In  fact, 
no  small  part  of  the  bitterness,  expressed  by  Captain  Lawton  against 
the  pedler,  arose  from  the  unaccountable  disappearance  of  the  latter, 
when  intrusted  to  the  custody  of  two  of  his  most  faithful  dragoons. 

A twelvemonth  had  not  yet  elapsed,  since  Birch  had  been  seen 
lingering  near  the  head-quarters  of  the  commander-in-chief,  and  at 
a time  when  important  movements  were  expected  hourly  to  occur. 
So  soon  as  the  information  of  this  fact  was  communicated  to  the 
officer,  whose  duty  it  was  to  guard  the  avenues  of  the  American 
camp,  he  despatched  Captain  Lawton  in  pursuit  of  the  pedler. 

Acquainted  with  all  the  passes  of  the  hills,  and  indefatigable  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duty,  the  trooper  had,  with  much  trouble  and 
toil,  succeeded  in  effecting  his  object.  The  party  had  halted  at  a 
farm-house  for  the  purposes  of  refreshment,  and  the  prisoner  was 
placed  in  a room  by  himself,  but  under  the  keeping  of  the  two  men 
before  mentioned ; all  that  was  known  subsequently  is,  that  a woman 
was  seen  busily  engaged  in  the  employments  of  the  household  near 
the  sentinels,  and  was  particularly  attentive  to  the  wants  of  the  cap- 
tain, until  he  was  deeply  engaged  in  the  employments  of  the  supper- 
table. 

Afterwards,  neither  woman  nor  pedler  was  to  be  found.  Tb 
pack,  indeed,  was  discovered  open,  and  nearly  empty,  and  a smab; 
door,  communicating  with  a room  adjoining  to  the  one  in  which  the 
pedler  had  been  secured,  was  ajar. 

Captain  Lawton  never  could  forgive  the  deception  : his  antipathies 
to  his  enemies  were  not  very  moderate,  but  this  was  adding  an  insult 


THE  SPY. 


77 


to  his  penetration  that  rankled  deeply.  He  sat  in  portentous  silence, 
brooding  over  the  exploit  of  his  prisoner,  yet  mechanically  pursuing 
the  business  before  him,  until,  after  sufficient  time  had  passed  to 
make  a very  comfortable  meal,  a trumpet  suddenly  broke  on  the  ears 
of  the  party,  sending  its  martial  tones  up  the  valley,  in  startling 
melody.  The  trooper  rose  instantly  from  the  table,  exclaiming  — - 
u Quick,  gentlemen,  to  your  horses ; there  comes  Dunwoodie  •” 
and,  followed  by  his  officers,  he  precipitately  left  the  room. 

With  the  exception  of  the  sentinels  left  to  guard  Captain  Whar- 
ton, the  dragoons  mounted,  and  marched  out  to  meet  their  comrades. 

None  of  the  watchfulness  necessary  in  a war,  in  which  similarity 
of  language,  appearance,  and  customs,  rendered  prudence  doubly 
necessary,  was  omitted  by  the  cautious  leader.  On  getting  suffi- 
ciently near,  however,  to  a body  of  horse  of  more  than  double  his 
own  number,  to  distinguish  countenances,  Lawton  plunged  his  rowek 
into  his  charger,  and  in  a moment  he  was  by  the  side  of  his  com- 
mander. 

The  ground  in  front  of  the  cottage  was  again  occupied  by  the 
horse;  and,  observing  the  same  precautions  as  before,  the  newly 
arrived  troops  hastened  to  participate  in  the  cheer  prepared  for  their 
comrades 


CHAPTER  VI. 


and  let  conquerors  boast 

Their  fields  of  fame  — he  who  in  virtue  arms 
A young  warm  spirit  against  beauty’s  charms, 

Who  feels  her  brightness,  yet  defies  her  thrall, 

Is  the  best,  bravest  conqueror  of  them  all. 

Moore. 

The  ladies  of  the  Wharton  family  had  collected  about  a window, 
deeply  interested  in  the  scene  we  have  related. 

Sarah  viewed  the  approach  of  her  countrymen  with  a smile  of 
contemptuous  indifference;  for  she  even  undervalued  the  personal 
appearance  of  men,  whom  she  thought  arrayed  in  the  unholy  cause 
of  rebellion.  Miss  Peyton  looked  on  the  gallant  show  with  an  ex- 
ulting pride,  which  arose  in  the  reflection,  that  the  warriors  before 
her  were  the  chosen  troops  of  her  native  colony;  while  Frances  gazed 
with  a singleness  of  interest  that  absorbed  all  other  considerations. 

The  two  parties  had  not  yet  joined,  before  her  quick  eye  distin- 
guished one  horseman  in  particular  from  those  around  him.  To  her 
it  appeared  that  even  the  steed  of  this  youthful  soldier  seemed  to  he 
conscious  that  he  sustained  the  weight  of  no  common  man : — his 
hoofs  hut  lightly  touched  the  earth,  and  his  airy  tread  was  the  curbed 
motion  of  a blooded  charger. 

The  dragoon  sat  in  the  saddle,  with  a firmness  and  ease  that 
showed  him  master  of  himself  and  horse,  - — his  figure  uniting  the 
just  proportions  of  strength  and  activity,  being  tall,  round,  and  mus- 
cular. To  this  officer  Lawton  made  his  report,  and,  side  by  side, 
they  rode  into  the  field  opposite  to  the  cottage. 


T HE  SPY. 


r<  y 

The  heart  of  Frances  beat  with  a pulsation  nearly  stifling,  as  he 
paused  for  a moment,  and  took  a survey  of  the  building,  with  an  eye 
whose  dark  and  sparkling  glance  could  be  seen,  notwithstanding  the 
distance  : — her  colour  changed,  and  for  an  instant,  as  she  saw  the 
youth  throw  himself  from  the  saddle,  she  was  compelled  to  seek 
relief  for  her  trembling  limbs  in  a chair. 

The  officer  gave  a few  hasty  orders  to  his  second  in  command, 
walked  rapidly  into  the  lawn,  and  approached  the  cottage.  Frances 
rose  from  her  seat,  and  vanished  from  the  apartment.  The  dragoon 
ascended  the  steps  of  the  piazza,  and  had  barely  time  to  touch  the 
outer  door,  when  it  opened  to  his  admission. 

The  youth  of  Frances,  when  she  left  the  city,  had  prevented  her 
sacrificing,  in  conformity  to  the  customs  of  that  day,  all  her  native 
beauties  on  the  altar  of  fashion.  Her  hair,  which  was  of  a golden 
richness  of  colour,  was  left,  un tortured,  to  fall  in  the  natural  ringlets 
of  infancy,  and  it  shaded  a face  which  was  glowing  with  the  united 
charms  of  health,  youth,  and  artlessness ; — her  eyes  spoke  volumes, 
but  her  tongue  was  silent ; — her  hands  were  interlocked  before  her, 
and,  aided  by  her  taper  form,  bending  forward  in  an  attitude  of  ex- 
pectation, gave  a loveliness  and  an  interest  to  her  appearance,  that 
for  a moment  chained  her  lover  in  silence  to  the  spot. 

Frances  silently  led  the  way  into  a vacant  parlour,  opposite  to  the 
one  in  which  the  family  were  assembled,  and  turning  to  the  soldier 
frankly,  placing  both  her  hands  in  his  own,  exclaimed  — 

“Ah,  Dunwoodie ! how  happy,  on  many  accounts,  I am  to  see 
you ! I have  brought  you  in  here,  to  prepare  you  to  meet  an  unex- 
pected friend  in  the  opposite  room.” 

“ To  whatever  cause  it  may  be  owing,”  cried  the  youth,  pressing 
her  hands  to  his  lips,  “ I,  too,  am  happy  in  being  able  to  see  you 
alone.  Frances,  the  probation  you  have  decreed  is  cruel ; war  and 
distance  may  shortly  separate  us  for  ever.” 

“We  must  submit  to  the  necessity  which  governs  us.  But  it  is  not 


80 


THE  SPY. 


iove  speeches  I would  hear  now : I have  other  and  more  important 
matter  for  jour  attention.” 

“ What  can  be  of  more  importance  than  to  make  you  mine  by  a 
tie  that  will  be  indissoluble  ! Frances,  you  are  cold  to  me  — me  — 
from  whose  mind,  days  of  service  and  nights  of  alarm  have  never 
been  able  to  banish  your  image  for  a single  moment.” 

“ Dear  Dunwoodie,”  said  Frances,  softening  nearly  to  tears,  and 
again  extending  her  hand  to  him,  as  the  richness  of  her  colour  gra- 
dually returned,  “ you  know  my  sentiments  — this  war  once  ended, 
and  you  may  take  that  hand  for  ever  — but  I can  never  consent  to 
tie  myself  to  you  by  any  closer  union  than  already  exists,  so  long  as 
you  are  arrayed  in  arms  against  my  only  brother.  Even  now,  that 
brother  is  awaiting  your  decision  to  restore  him  to  liberty,  or  to  con- 
duct him  to  a probable  death.” 

“Your  brother!”  cried  Dunwoodie,  starting  and  turning  pale; 
“ your  brother  ! explain  yourself  — what  dreadful  meaning  is  con- 
cealed in  your  words  ?” 

“ Has  not  Captain  Lawton  told  you  of  the  arrest  of  Henry  by 
himself  this  very  morning  ?”  continued  Frances,  in  a voice  barely 
audible,  and  fixing  on  her  lover  a look  of  the  deepest  concern. 

“ He  told  me  of  arresting  a captain  of  the  60th  in  disguise,  but 
without  mentioning  where  or  whom,”  replied  the  Major  in  a similar 
tone ; and  dropping  his  head  between  his  hands,  he  endeavoured  to 
conceal  his  feelings  from  his  companion. 

“ Dunwoodie ! Dunwoodie  !”  exclaimed  Frances,  losing  all  her 
former  confidence  in  the  most  fearful  apprehensions,  “ what  means 
this  agitation  ?”  As  the  Major  slowly  raised  his  face,  in  which  was 
pictured  the  most  expressive  concern,  she  continued,  “ Surely,  surely, 
you  will  not  betray  your  friend — my  brother — your  brother — to  an 
ignominious  death.” 

“ Frances  !”  exclaimed  the  young  man  in  agony,  “ what  can  I do  ?M 

“ Do  !”  she  repeated,  gazing  at  him  wildly ; “ would  Major  Dun- 


T HE  S P I . 


81 


woodie  yield  his  friend  to  his  enemies — the  brother  of  his  betrothed 
wife?” 

“ Oh  speak  not  so  unkindly  to  me,  dearest  Miss  Wharton  - — my 
own  Frances.  I would  this  moment  die  for  you — for  Henry — but  I 
cannot  forget  my  duty  — cannot  forfeit  my  honour ; you  yourself 
would  be  the  first  to  despise  me  if  I did.” 

“ Peyton  Dunwoodie  !”  said  Frances,  solemnly,  and  with  a face  of 
ashy  paleness,  “ you  have  told  me — you  have  sworn,  that  you  loved 
me—” 

u I do,”  interrupted  the  soldier,  with  fervour ; — but  motioning  for 
silence,  she  continued,  in  a voice  that  trembled  with  her  fears — 
u Do  you  think  I can  throw  myself  into  the  arms  of  a man,  whose 
hands  are  stained  with  the  blood  of  my  only  brother !” 

“ Frances  ! you  wring  my  very  heart ;”  then  pausing,  to  struggle 
with  his  feelings,  he  endeavoured  to  force  a smile,  as  he  added,  “ but, 
after  all,  we  may  be  torturing  ourselves  with  unnecessary  fears,  and 
Henry,  when  I know  the  circumstances,  may  be  nothing  more  than 
a prisoner  of  war ; in  which  case,  I can  liberate  him  on  parole.” 
There  is  no  more  delusive  passion  than  hope ; and  it  seems  to  be 
the  happy  privilege  of  youth  to  cull  all  the  pleasures  that  can  be 
gathered  from  its  indulgence.  It  is  when  we  are  most  worthy  of 
confidence  ourselves,  that  we  are  least  apt  to  distrust  others ; and 
what  we  think  ought  to  be,  we  are  prone  to  think  will  be. 

The  half-formed  expectations  of  the  young  soldier  were  commu- 
nicated to  the  desponding  sister,  more  by  the  eye  than  the  voice,  and 
the  blood  rushed  again  to  her  cheek,  as  she  cried — 

u Oh  ! there  can  be  no  just  grounds  to  doubt  it : I knew  — 1 
knew  — Dunwoodie,  you  would  never  desert  us  in  the  hour  of  our 
greatest  need !”  The  violence  of  her  feelings  prevailed,  and  the 
agitated  girl  found  relief  in  a flood  of  tears. 

The  office  of  consoling  those  we  love  is  one  of  the  dearest  preroga- 
tives of  affection;  and  Major  Dunwoodie,  although  but  little  encou- 
raged by  his  own  momentary  suggestion  of  relief,  could  not  unde 

I * 


82 


THE  S P V . 


ceive  the  lovely  girl,  who  leaned  on  his  shoulder,  as  he  wiped  the 
traces  of  her  feeling  from  her  face,  with  a trembling,  but  reviving 
confidence,  in  the  safety  of  her  brother,  and  the  protection  of  her 

lover. 

Frances  having  sufficiently  recovered  her  recollection  to  command 
herself,  now  eagerly  led  the  way  into  the  opposite  room,  to  commu- 
nicate to  her  family  the  pleasing  intelligence  which  she  already  con- 
ceived so  certain. 

Dunwoodie  followed  her  reluctantly,  and  with  forebodings  of  the 
result ; but,  a few  moments  brought  him  into  the  presence  of  his 
relatives,  and  he  summoned  all  his  resolution  to  meet  the  trial  with 
firmness. 

The  salutations  of  the  young  men  were  cordial  and  frank,  and, 
on  the  part  of  Henry  Wharton,  as  collected  as  if  nothing 
occurred  to  disturb  his  self-possession. 

The  abhorrence  of  being,  in  any  manner,  auxiliary  to  the  arrest 
of  his  friend ; the  danger  to  the  life  of  Captain  Wharton ; and  the 
heart-breaking  declarations  of  Frances,  had,  however,  created  an 
uneasiness  in  the  bosom  of  Major  Dunwoodie,  which  all  his  efforts 
could  not  conceal.  His  reception  by  the  rest  of  the  family  was  kind 
and  sincere,  both  from  old  regard,  and  a remembrance  of  former 
obligations,  heightened  by  the  anticipations  they  could  not  fail  to 
read  in  the  expressive  eyes  of  the  blushing  girl  by  his  side.  After 
exchanging  greetings  with  every  member  of  the  family,  Major  Dun- 
woodie beckoned  to  the  sentinel,  whom  the  wary  prudence  of  Cap- 
tain Lawton  had  left  in  charge  of  the  prisoner,  to  leave  the  room. 
Turning  to  Captain  Wharton,  he  enquired  mildly  — 

“ Tell  me,  Henry,  the  circumstances  of  this  disguise,  in  which 
Captain  Lawton  reports  you  to  have  been  found,  and  remember  — 
remember  — Captain  Wharton  — your  answers  are  entirely  volun- 
tary.^ 

u The  disguise  was  used  by  me,  Major  Dunwoodie/’  replied  the 


THE  SPY. 


83 


English  officer,  gravely,  “ to  enable  me  to  visit  my  friends,  without 
incurring  the  danger  of  becoming  a prisoner  of  war.” 

u But  you  did  not  wear  it,  until  you  saw  the  troop  of  Lawton 
approaching  ?” 

u Oh ! no,”  interrupted  Frances,  eagerly,  forgetting  all  the  cir- 
cumstances in  her  anxiety  for  her  brother;  “ Sarah  and  myself 
placed  them  on  him  when  the  dragoons  appeared ; it  was  our  awk- 
wardness that  led  to  the  discovery.” 

The  countenance  of  Dunwoodie  brightened,  as,  turning  his  eye* 
in  fondness  on  the  speaker,  he  listened  to  her  explanation. 

u Probably  some  articles  of  your  own,”  he  continued,  “ which 
were  at  hand,  and  were  us<>d  on  the  spur  of  the  moment.” 

u No,”  said  Wharton,  with  dignity ; “ the  clothes  were  worn  by 
me  from  the  city ; they  were  procured  for  the  purpose  to  which  they 
were  applied,  and  I intended  to  use  them  in  my  return  this  very 
day.” 

The  appalled  Frances  shrunk  back  from  between  her  brother  and 
lover,  where  her  ardent  feelings  had  carried  her,  as  the  whole  truth 
glanced  over  her  mind,  and  she  sunk  into  a seat,  gazing  wildly  on 
the  young  men. 

“ But  the  pickets  — the  party  at  the  Plains  ?”  added  Dunwoodie, 
turning  pale. 

“ I passed  them,  too,  in  disguise.  I made  use  of  this  pass,  for 
which  I paid ; and,  as  it  bears  the  name  of  Washington,  1 presume 
it  is  forged.” 

Dunwoodie  caught  the  paper  from  his  hand,  eagerly,  and  stood 
gazing  on  the  signature  for  some  time  in  silence,  during  which  the 
soldier  gradually  prevailed  over  the  man ; when  he  turned  to  the 
prisoner,  with  a searching  look,  as  he  asked  — 

u Captain  Wharton,  whence  did  you  procure  this  paper?” 
u That  is  a question,  I conceive,  Major  Dunwoodie  has  no  right 
to  ask.” 


THE  SPY. 


84 

“ Your  pardou,  sir;  my  feelings  may  have  led  me  into  an  in  pin- 
priety 

Mr.  Wharton,  who  had  been  a deeply  interested  auditor,  now  so 
far  conquered  his  feelings  as  to  say,  “ Surely,  Major  Dunwoodie,  tl.e 
paper  cannot  be  material ; such  artifices  are  used  daily  in  war.” 

“ This  name  is  no  counterfeit,”  said  the  dragoon,  studying  the 
characters,  and  speaking  in  a low  voice  : u is  treason  yet  among  us 
undiscovered  ? The  confidence  of  Washington  has  been  abused,  foi 
the  fictitious  name  is  in  a different  hand  from  the  pass.  Captain 
Wharton,  my  duty  will  not  suffer  me  to  grant  you  a parole  : you 
must  accompany  me  to  the  Highlands.” 

“ I did  not  expect  otherwise,  Major  Dunwoodie.” 

Dunwoodie  turned  slowly  towards  the  sisters,  when  the  figure  of 
Frances  once  more  arrested  his  gaze.  She  had  risen  from  her  seat, 
and  stood  again  with  her  hands  clasped  before  him  in  an  attitude  of 
petition  : feeling  himself  unable  to  contend  longer  with  his  feelings, 
he  made  a hurried  excuse  for  a temporary  absence,  and  left  the  room. 
Frances  followed  him,  and,  obedient  to  the  direction  of  her  eye,  the 
soldier  re-entered  the  apartment  in  which  had  been  their  first  inter- 
view. 

u Major  Dunwoodie,”  said  Frances,  in  a voice  barely  audible,  as 
she  beckoned  to  him  to  be  seated ; her  cheek,  which  had  been  of  a 
chilling  whiteness,  was  flushed  with  a suffusion  that  crimsoned  her 
whole  countenance ; she  struggled  with  herself  for  a moment,  and 
continued — u I have  already  acknowledged  to  you  my  esteem ; even 
now,  when  you  most  painfully  distress  me,  I wish  not  to  conceal  it. 
Believe  me,  Henry  is  innocent  of  everything  but  imprudence.  Our 
country  can  sustain  no  wrong.”  Again  she  paused,  and  almost 
gasped  for  breath ; her  colour  changed  rapidly  from  red  to  white, 
until  the  blood  rushed  into  her  face,  covering  her  features  with  the 
brightest  vermilion ; and  she  added  hastily,  in  an  under  tone,  “ 1 
have  promised,  Dunwoodie,  when  peace  shall  be  restored  to  oui 
country,  to  become  your  wife;  give  to  my  brother  his  liberty  on 


THE  SPY. 


85 


parole,  and  I will  this  day  go  with  you  to  the  altar,  folio  vv  you  to 
the  camp,  and,  in  becoming  a soldier’s  bride,  learn  to  endure  a sob 
dier’s  privations.” 

Dunwoodie  seized  the  hand  which  the  blushing  girl,  in  her  ar- 
dour, had  extended  towards  him,  and  pressed  it  for  a moment  to  his 
bosom ; then  rising  from  his  seat,  he  paced  the  room  in  excessive 
agitation. 

u Frances,  say  no  more,  I conjure  you,  unless  you  wish  to  break 
my  heart.” 

“ You  then  reject  my  offered  hand  ?”  she  said,  rising  with  dig- 
nity, though  her  pale  cheek  and  quivering  lip  plainly  showed  the 
conflicting  passions  within. 

u Reject  it ! Have  I not  sought  it  with  entreaties — with  tears  ? 
Has  it  not  been  the  goal  of  all  my  earthly  wishes?  But  to  take  it 
under  such  conditions  would  be  to  dishonour  both.  We  will  hope 
for  better  things.  Henry  must  be  acquitted;  perhaps  not  tried. 
No  intercession  of  mine  shall  be  wanting,  you  must  well  know;  and 
believe  me,  Frances,  I am  not  without  favour  with  Washington.” 

u That  very  paper,  that  abuse  of  his  confidence,  to  which  you  al- 
luded, will  steel  him  to  my  brother’s  case.  If  threats  or  entreaties 
could  move  his  stern  sense  of  justice,  would  Andre  have  suffered  ?” 
As  Frances  uttered  these  words,  she  fled  from  the  room  in  despair. 

Dunwoodie  remained  for  a minute  nearly  stupified ; and  then  he 
followed  with  a view  to  vindicate  himself,  and  to  relieve  her  appre- 
hensions. On  entering  the  hall  that  divided  the  two  parlours,  he 
was  met  by  a small  ragged  boy,  who  looked  one  moment  at  his  dress, 
and  placing  a piece  of  paper  in  his  hands,  immediately  vanished 
through  the  outer  door  of  the  building.  The  bewildered  state  of 
his  mind,  and  the  suddennes_s  of  the  occurrence,  gave  the  Major 
barely  time  to  observe  the  messenger  to  be  a country  lad,  meanly 
attired,  and  that  he  held  in  his  hand  one  of  those  toys  which  are  to 
be  bought  in  cities,  and  which  he  now  apparently  contemplated  with 
the  conscious  pleasure  of  having  fairly  purchased,  by  the  perforin- 


86 


THE  SPY. 


Hi:ce  of  the  service  required.  The  soldier  turned  his  eyes  to  tlx? 
subject  of  the  note.  It  was  written  on  a piece  of  torn  and  soiled 
paper,  and  in  a hand  barely  legible ; but,  after  some  little  labour, 
he  was  able  to  make  out  as  follows : — 

w The  rigHars  are  at  hand , horse  and  foot.”* 

* There  died  a few  years  since,  in  Bedford,  West  Chester,  a yeoman 

named  Elisha  H . This  person  was  employed  by  Washington  as  one  of 

his  most  confidential  spies.  By  the  conditions  of  their  bargain,  H was 

never  to  be  required  to  deal  with  third  parties,  since  his  risks  were  too  immi- 
nent. He  was  allowed  to  enter  also  into  the  service  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton ; 
and  so  much  confidence  had  Washington  in  his  love  of  country  and  discie- 
tion,  that  he  was  often  intrusted  with  the  minor  military  movements,  in  order 
that  he  might  enhance  his  value  with  the  English  general,  by  communicat- 
ing them.  In  this  manner,  H had  continued  to  serve  for  a long  period, 

when  chance  brought  him  into  the  city  (then  held  by  the  British)  at  a mo- 
ment when  an  expedition  was  about  to  quit  it,  to  go  against  a small  post 
established  at  Bedford,  his  native  village,  where  the  Americans  had  a depot 
of  provisions.  H easily  ascertained  the  force  and  destination  of  the  de- 

tachment ordered  on  this  service,  but  he  was  at  a loss  in  what  manner  to 
communicate  his  information  to  the  officer  in  command  at  Bedford,  without 
betraying  his  own  true  character  to  a third  person.  There  was  not  time  to 
reach  Washington,  and  under  the  circumstances,  he  finally  resolved  to  hazard 
a short  note  to  the  American  commandant,  stating  the  danger,  and  naming 
the  time  when  the  attack  might  be  expected.  To  this  note  he  even  ventured 
to  affix  his  own  initials  E.  H.,  though  he  had  disguised  the  hand,  under  a 
belief  that,  as  he  knew  himself  to  be  suspected  by  his  countrymen,  it  might 
serve  to  give  more  weight  to  his  warning.  His  family  being  at  Bedford,  the 

note  was  transmitted  with  facility,  and  arrived  in  good  season,  H him 

self  remaining  in  New  York. 

The  American  commandant  did  what  every  sensible  officer,  in  a similar 
case,  would  have  done.  He  sent  a courier  with  the  note  to  Washington,  de- 
manding orders,  while  he  prepared  his  little  party  to  make  the  best  defence 
in  his  power. 

The  head-quarters  of  the  American  army  were,  at  that  time,  in  the  High- 
lands.  Fortunately,  the  express  met  Washington,  on  a tour  of  observation 
near  their  entrance.  The  note  was  given  to  him,  and  he  read  it  in  the  sad- 


THE  SPY. 


87 


Uunwoodie  started ; and,  forgetting  every  thing  but  the  duties  of 
* soldier,  he  precipitately  left  the  house.  While  walking  rapidly 
towards  the  troops,  he  noticed  on  a distant  hill  a vidette  riding  with 
speed : several  pistols  were  fired  in  quick  succession ; and  the  next 
instant  the  trumpets  of  the  corps  rang  in  his  ears  with  the  enlivening 
strain  of  “ To  arms  !”  By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  ground  oc- 
cupied by  his  squadron,  the  Major  saw  that  every  man  was  in  active 
motion.  Lawton  was  already  in  the  saddle,  eyeing  the  opposite 
extremity  of  the  valley  with  the  eagerness  of  expectation,  and  crying 
to  the  musicians,  in  tones  but  little  lower  than  their  own  — 

u Sound  away,  my  lads,  and  let  these  Englishmen  know,  that  the 
Virginia  horse  are  between  them  and  the  end  of  their  journey.” 

The  videttes  and  patrols  now  came  pouring  in,  each  making  in 
succession  his  hasty  report  to  the  commanding  officer,  who  gave  his 
orders  coolly,  and  with  a prompitude  that  made  obedience  certain. 
Once  only,  as  he  wheeled  his  horse  to  ride  over  the  ground  in  front, 
did  Dunwoodie  trust  himself  with  a look  at  the  cottage,  and  his  heart 
beat  with  unusual  rapidity  as  he  saw  a female  figure  standing,  with 
clasped  hands,  at  a window  of  the  room  in  which  he  had  met  Fran- 

dle ; adding,  in  pencil,  “ Believe  all  that  E.  H.  tells  you.  George  Washing, 
ton.”  He  returned  it  to  the  courier,  with  an  injunction  to  ride  for  life  or 
death. 

The  courier  reached  Bedford  after  the  British  had  made  their  attack. 
The  commandant  read  the  reply,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  The  Americans 

were  defeated,  and  their  leader  killed.  The  note  of  H , with  the  line 

written  on  it  by  Washington,  was  found  on  his  person. 

The  following  day  H was  summoned  to  the  presence  of  Sir  Henry 

Clinton.  After  the  latter  had  put  several  general  questions,  he  suddenly  gave 
the  note  to  the  spy,  and  asked  if  he  knew  the  hand-writing,  and  demanding 
who  the  E.  H.  was.  “It  is  Elijah  Hadden,  the  spy  you  hanged  yesterday, 
at  Powles  Hook.”  The  readiness  of  this  answer,  connected  with  the  fact 
that  a spy  having  the  same  initials  had  been  executed  the  day  before,  and 

the  coolness  of  H , saved  him.  Sir  Henry  Clinton  allowed  him  to  quit 

his  presence,  and  he  never  saw  him  afterwards. 


88 


THE  SPY. 


ces,  The  distance  was  too  great  to  distinguish  her  features,  but  the 
soldier  could  not  doubt  that  it  was  his  mistress.  The  paleness  of 
his  cheek  and  the  languor  of  his  eye  endured  but  for  a moment 
longer.  As  he  rode  towards  the  intended  battle-ground,  a flush  of 
ardour  began  to  show  itself  on  his  sun-burnt  features ; and  his  dra- 
goons, who  studied  the  face  of  their  leader,  as  the  best  index  to  theii 
own  fate,  saw  again  the  wonted  flashing  of  the  eyes,  and  the  cheerful 
animation,  which  they  had  so  often  witnessed  on  the  eve  of  battle. 
By  the  additions  of  the  videttes  and  parties  that  had  been  out,  and 
which  now  had  all  joined,  the  whole  number  of  the  horse  was  in- 
creased to  nearly  two  hundred.  There  was  also  a small  body  of 
men,  whose  ordinary  duties  were  those  of  guides,  but  who,  in  cases 
of  emergency,  were  embodied  and  did  duty  as  foot-soldiers;  these 
were  dismounted,  and  proceeded,  by  the  order  of  Bunwoodie,  to  level 
the  few  fences  which  might  interfere  with  the  intended  movements 
of  the  cavalry.  The  neglect  of  husbandry,  which  had  been  occa- 
sioned by  the  war,  left  this  task  comparatively  easy.  Those  long 
lines  of  heavy  and  durable  walls,  which  now  sweep  through  every 
part  of  the  country,  forty  years  ago  were  unknown.  The  slight  and 
tottering  fences  of  stone  were  then  used  more  to  clear  the  land  for 
the  purposes  of  cultivation  than  as  permanent  barriers,  and  required 
the  constant  attention  of  the  husbandman,  to  preserve  them  against 
the  fury  of  the  tempests  and  the  frosts  of  winter.  Some  few  of  them 
had  been  built  with  more  care  immediately  around  the  dwelling  of 
Mr.  Wharton ; but  those  which  had  intersected  the  vale  below  were 
now  generally  a pile  of  ruins,  over  which  the  horses  of  the  Virgini- 
ans would  bound  with  the  fleetness  of  the  wind.  Occasionally  a 
short  line  yet  preserved  its  erect  appearance ; but  as  none  of  these 
crossed  the  ground  on  which  Bunwoodie  intended  to  act,  there  re- 
mained only  the  slighter  fences  of  rails  to  be  thrown  down.  Their 
duty  was  hastily,  but  effectually,  performed ; and  the  guides  with- 
drew to  the  post  assigned  to  them  for  the  approaching  fight. 

Major  Bunwoodie  had  received  from  his  scouts  all  the  intelligence 


THE  SPY. 


89 


concerning  his  foe,  which  was  necessary  to  enable  him  to  make  his 
arrangements.  The  bottom  of  the  valley  was  an  even  plain,  that 
fell  with  a slight  inclination  from  the  foot  of  the  hills  on  either  side, 
to  the  level  of  a natural  meadow  that  wound  through  the  country 
on  the  banks  of  a small  stream,  by  whose  waters  it  was  often  ilium 
dated  and  fertilised.  This  brook  was  easily  forded  in  any  part  of 
its  course ; and  the  only  impediment  it  offered  to  the  movements  of 
the  horse,  was  in  a place  where  it  changed  its  bed  from  the  western 
to  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley,  and  where  its  banks  were  more 
steep  and  difficult  of  access  than  common.  Here  the  highway  crossed 
it  by  a rough  wooden  bridge,  as  it  did  again  at  the  distance  of  half 
a mile  above  the  Locusts. 

The  hills  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley  were  abrupt,  and  fre- 
quently obtruded  themselves  in  rocky  prominences  into  its  bosom, 
lessening  the  width  to  half  the  usual  dimensions.  One  of  these 
projections  was  but  a short  distance  in  the  rear  of  the  squadron  of 
dragoons,  and  Dunwoodie  directed  Captain  Lawton  to  withdraw,  with 
two  troops,  behind  its  cover.  The  officer  obeyed  with  a kind  of 
surly  reluctance,  that  was,  however,  somewhat  lessened  by  the  anti- 
cipations of  the  effect  his  sudden  appearance  would  make  on  the 
enemy.  Dunwoodie  knew  his  man,  and  had  selected  the  captain  for 
this  service,  both  because  he  feared  his  precipitation  in  the  held,  and 
knew,  when  needed,  his  support  would  never  fail  to  appear.  It  was 
only  in  front  of  the  enemy  that  Captain  Lawton  was  hasty ; at  all 
other  times  his  discernment  and  self-possession  were  consummately 
preserved ) but  he  sometimes  forgot  them  in  his  eagerness  to  engage. 
On  the  left  of  the  ground  on  which  Dunwoodie  intended  to  meet 
his  foe,  was  a close  wood,  which  skirted  that  side  of  the  .valley  for 
the  distance  of  a mile.  Into  this,  then,  the  guides  retired,  and  took 
their  station  near  its  edge,  in  such  a manner  as  would  enable  them 
to  maintain  a scattering,  but  effectual  fire,  on  the  advancing  column 
of  the  enemy. 

It  cannot  be  supposed  that  all  these  preparations  were  made  un- 


90 


THE  SPY. 


heeded  by  the  inmates  of  the  cottage ; on  the  contrary,  every  feeling 
which  can  agitate  the  human  breast,  in  witnessing  such  a scene,  was 
actively  alive.  Mr.  Wharton  alone  saw  no  hopes  to  himself  in  the 
termination  of  the  conflict.  If  the  British  should  prevail,  his  son 
would  be  liberated  ; but  what  would  then  be  his  own  fate  ! He  had 
hitherto  preserved  his  neutral  character  in  the  midst  of  trying  cir- 
cumstances. The  fact  of  his  having  a son  in  the  royal,  or,  as  it  was 
called,  the  regular  army,  had  very  nearly  brought  his  estates  to  the 
hammer.  Nothing  had  obviated  this  result,  but  the  powerful  inte- 
rest of  the  relation,  who  held  a high  political  rank  in  the  state,  and 
his  own  vigilant  prudence.  In  his  heart,  he  was  a devoted  loyalist ; 
and  when  the  blushing  Frances  had  communicated  to  him  the  wishes 
of  her  lover,  on  their  return  from  the  American  camp  the  preceding 
spring,  the  consent  he  had  given,  to  her  future  union  with  a rebel, 
was  as  much  extracted  by  the  increasing  necessity  which  existed  for 
his  obtaining  republican  support,  as  by  any  considerations  for  the 
happiness  of  his  child.  Should  his  son  now  be  rescued,  he  would, 
in  the  public  mind,  be  united  with  him  as  a 'plotter  against  the  free- 
dom of  the  States ; and  should  he  remain  a captive,  and  undergo  the 
impending  trial,  the  consequences  might  be  still  more  dreadful. 
Much  as  he  loved  his  wealth,  Mr.  Wharton  loved  his  children  bet- 
ter; and  he  sat  gazing  on  the  movements  without,  with  a listless 
vacancy  in  his  countenance,  that  fully  denoted  his  imbecility  of 
character. 

Far  different  were  the  feelings  of  the  son.  Captain  Wharton  had 
been  left  in  the  keeping  of  two  dragoons ; one  of  whom  marched  to 
and  fro  on  the  piazza  with  a measured  tread,  and  the  other  had  been 
directed  to  continue  in  the  same  apartment  with  his  prisoner.  The 
young  man  had  witnessed  all  the  movements  of  Dunwoodie  with 
admiration  mingled  with  fearful  anticipations  of  the  consequences  to 
his  friends.  He  particularly  disliked  the  ambush  of  the  detachment 
under  Lawton,  who  could  be  distinctly  seen  from  the  windows  of 
the  cottage,  cooling  his  impatience,  by  pacing  on  foot  the  ground  in 


THE  SPY. 


91 


front  of  his  men.  Henry  Wharton  threw  several  hasty  and  enquir 
ing  glances  around,  to  see  if  no  means  of  liberation  would  offer,  bui 
invariably  found  the  eyes  of  his  sentinel  fixed  on  him  with  the 
watchfulness  of  an  Argus.  He  longed,  with  the  ardour  of  youth, 
to  join  in  the  glorious  fray,  but  was  compelled  to  remain  a dissatis- 
fied spectator  of  a scene  in  which  he  would  so  cheerfully  have  been 
an  actor.  Miss  Peyton  and  Sarah  continued  gazing  on  the  prepara- 
tions with  varied  emotions,  in  which  concern  for  the  fate  of  the  Cap- 
tain formed  the  most  prominent  feeling,  until  the  moment  the  shed- 
ding of  blood  seemed  approaching,  when,  with  the  timidity  of  their 
sex,  they  sought  the  retirement  of  an  inner  room.  Not  so  Frances : 
she  returned  to  the  apartment  where  she  had  left  Dunwoodie,  and, 
from  one  of  its  windows,  had  been  a deeply  interested  spectator  of 
all  his  movements.  The  wheelings  of  the  troops,  the  deadly  prepa- 
rations, had  all  been  unnoticed ; she  saw  her  lover  only,  and  with 
mingled  emotions  of  admiration  and  dread  that  nearly  chilled  her. 
At  one  moment  the  blood  rushed  to  her  heart,  as  she  saw  the  young 
warrior  riding  through  his  ranks,  giving  life  and  courage  to  all  whom 
he  addressed ; and  the  next,  it  curdled  with  the  thought,  that  the 
very  gallantry  she  so  much  valued  might  prove  the  means  of  placing 
the  grave  between  her  and  the  object  of  her  regard.  Frances  gazed 
until  she  could  look  no  longer. 

In  a field  on  the  left  of  the  cottage,  and  at  a short  distance  in  the 
rear  of  the  troops,  was  a small  group,  whose  occupation  seemed  to 
differ  from  that  of  all  around  them.  They  were  in  number  only 
three,  being  two  men  and  a mulatto  boy.  The  principal  personage 
of  this  party  was  a man,  whose  leanness  made  his  really  tall  stature 
appear  excessive.  He  wore  spectacles  — was  unarmed,  had  dis- 
mounted, and  seemed  to  be  dividing  his  attention  between  a segar,  a 
book,  and  the  incidents  of  the  field  before  him.  To  this  party 
Frances  determined  to  send  a note,  directed  to  Dunwoodie.  She 
wrote  hastily,  with  a pencil,  u Come  to  me , Peyton , if  it  be  but  for 
a moment and  Caesar  emerged  from  the  cellar  kitchen,  taking  the 


92 


THE  S P y . 


precaution  to  go  by  tbe  rear  of  the  building,  to  avoid  the  sentinel  oi 
the  piazza,  who  had  very  cavalierly  ordered  all  the  family  to  remain 
housed.  The  black  delivered  the  note  to  the  gentleman,  with  a 
request  that  it  might  be  forwarded  to  Major  Dunwoodie.  It  was  the 
surgeon  of  the  horse  to  whom  Caesar  addressed  himself;  and  the 
teeth  of  the  African  chattered,  as  he  saw  displayed  upon  the  ground 
the  several  instruments  which  were  in  preparation  for  the  anticipated 
operations.  The  doctor  himself  seemed  to  view  the  arrangement 
with  great  satisfaction,  as  he  deliberately  raised  his  eyes  from  his 
book  to  order  the  boy  to  convey  the  note  to  his  commanding  officer, 
and  then  dropping  them  quietly  on  the  page,  he  continued  his  occu- 
pation. Caesar  was  slowly  retiring,  as  the  third  personage,  who  by 
his  dress  might  be  an  inferior  assistant  of  the  surgical  department, 
coolly  enquired  “if  he  would  have  a leg  taken  off  ?"  This  question 
seemed  to  remind  the  black  of  the  existence  of  those  limbs;  for  he 
made  such  use  of  them  as  to  reach  the  piazza  at  the  same  instant 
that  Major  Dunwoodie  rode  up,  at  half  speed.  The  brawny  sentinel 
squared  himself,  and  poised  his  sword  with  military  precision,  as  he 
stood  on  his  post,  while  his  officer  passed;  but  no  sooner  had  the 
door  closed,  than,  turning  to  the  negro,  he  said,  sharply  — 

“ Harkee,  blackey,  if  you  quit  the  house  again  without  my  know- 
ledge, I shall  turn  barber,  and  shave  off  one  of  those  ebony  ears 
with  this  razor." 

Thus  assailed  in  another  member,  Caesar  hastily  retreated  into  his 
kitchen,  muttering  something,  in  which  the  words  “ Skinner,  and 
rebel  rascal/'  formed  a principal  part  of  his  speech. 

“ Major  Dunwoodie/'  said  Frances  to  her  lover  as  he  entered,  “ I 
may  have  done  you  injustice;  if  I have  appeared  harsh — " 

The  emotions  of  the  agitated  girl  prevailed,  and  she  burst  into 
tears. 

“ Frances/'  cried  the  soldier  with  warmth,  “you  are  never  harsh, 
never  unjust,  but  when  you  doubt  my  love." 

“Ah!  Dunwoodie,"  added  the  sobbing  girl,  “you  are  about  to 


T II  E SPY. 


93 


risk  your  life  in  battle ) remember  that  there  is  one  heart  whose 
happiness  is  built  on  your  safety  • brave  I know  you  are ; be  pru- 
dent—■ ” 

u For  your  sake  V’  enquired  the  delighted  youth. 

u For  my  sake,”  replied  Frances,  in  a voice  barely  audible,  and 
dropping  on  his  bosom. 

DunwOodie  folded  her  to  his  heart,  and  was  about  to  speak,  as  a 
trumpet  sounded  in  the  southern  end  of  the  vale.  Imprinting  one 
long  kiss  of  affection  on  her  unresisting  lips,  the  soldier  tore  himself 
from  his  mistress,  and  hastened  to  the  scene  of  strife. 

Frances  threw  herself  on  a sofa,  buried  her  head  under  its  cushion, 
and  with  her  shawl  drawn  over  her  face,  to  exclude  as  much  of  sound 
as  possible,  continued  there  until  the  shouts  of  the  combatants,  the 
rattling  of  the  fire-arms,  and  the  thundering  tread  of  the  horses,  had 
ceased. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


The  game ’s  afoot ; 

Follow  your  spirit. 

Shakspeare. 

The  rough  and  unimproved  face  of  the  country,  the  frequency  of 
covers,  together  with  the  great  distance  from  their  own  country,  and 
the  facilities  afforded  them  for  rapid  movements  to  the  different 
points  of  the  war,  by  the  undisputed  command  of  the  ocean,  had 
united  to  deter  the  English  from  employing  a heavy  force  in  cavalry, 
in  their  early  efforts  to  subdue  the  revolted  colonies. 

Only  one  regiment  of  regular  horse  was  sent  from  the  mother 
country,  during  the  struggle.  But  legions  and  independent  corps 
were  formed  in  different  places,  as  it  best  accorded  with  the  views 
of  the  royal  commanders,  or  suited  the  exigency  of  the  times.  These 
were  not  unfrequently  composed  of  men  raised  in  the  colonies,  and 
at  other  times  drafts  were  had  from  the  regiments  of  the  line,  and 
the  soldier  was  made  to  lay  aside  the  musket  and  bayonet,  and  taught 
to  wield  the  sabre  and  carabine.  One  particular  body  of  the  subsi- 
diary troops  was  included  in  this  arrangement,  and  the  Hessian 
yagers  were  transformed  into  a corps  of  heavy  and  inactive  horse. 

Opposed  to  them  were  the  hardiest  spirits  of  America.  Most  of 
the  cavalry  regiments  of  the  continental  army  were  led  and  officered 
by  gentlemen  from  the  south.  The  high  and  haughty  courage  of 
the  commanders  had  communicated  itself  to  the  privates,  who  were 
men  selected  with  care  and  great  attention  to  the  service  they  were 
intended  to  perform. 


THE  SPY. 


95 


While  the  British  were  confined  to  their  empty  conquests  in  the 
possession  of  a few  of  the  larger  towns,  or  marched  through  countiea 
that  were  swept  of  every  thing  like  military  supplies,  the  light  troops 
of  their  enemies  had  the  range  of  the  whole  interior. 

The  sufferings  of  the  line  of  the  American  army  were  great  be- 
yond example ; but  possessing  the  power,  and  feeling  themselves 
engaged  in  a cause  which  justified  severity,  the  cavalry  officers  were 
vigilant  in  providing  for  their  wants,  and  the  horse  were  well 
mounted,  well  fed,  and  consequently  eminently  effective.  Perhaps 
the  world  could  not  furnish  more  brave,  enterprising,  and  resistless 
corps  of  light  cavalry,  than  a few  that  were  in  the  continental  service 
at  the  time  of  which  we  write. 

Dunwoodie’s  men  had  often  tried  their  prowess  against  the  enemy, 
and  they  now  sat  panting  to  be  led  once  more  against  foes  whom 
they  seldom  charged  in  vain.  Their  wishes  were  soon  to  be  gratified ; 
for  their  commander  had  scarcely  time  to  regain  his  seat  in  the  sad- 
dle, before  a body  of  the  enemy  came  sweeping  round  the  base  of 
the  hill,  which  intersected  the  view  to  the  south.  A few  minutes 
enabled  the  Major  to  distinguish  their  character.  In  one  troop  he 
saw  the  green  coats  of  the  Cow-Boys,  and  in  the  other  the  leathern 
helmets  and  wooden  saddles  of  the  yagers.  Their  numbers  were 
about  equal  to  the  body  under  his  immediate  orders. 

On  reaching  the  open  space  near  the  cottage  of  Harvey  Birch, 
the  enemy  halted  and  drew  up  his  men  in  line,  evidently  making 
preparations  for  a charge.  At  this  moment  a column  of  foot  ap- 
peared in  the  vale,  and  pressed  forward  to  the  bank  of  the  brook  we 
have  already  mentioned. 

Major  Dunwoodie  was  not  less  distinguished  by  coolness  and 
judgment,  than,  where  occasion  offered,  by  his  dauntless  intrepidity. 
He  at  once  saw  his  advantage,  and  determined  to  profit  by  it.  The 
column  he  led  began  slowly  to  retire  from  the  field,  when  the  youth- 
ful German,  who  commanded  the  enemy’s  horse,  fearful  of  missing 
an  easy  conquest,  gave  the  word  to  charge.  Few  troops  were  more 


96 


THE  SPY. 


hardy  than  the  Cow-Boys ; they  sprang  eagerly  forward  in  the  pur- 
suit., with  a confidence  created  by  the  retiring  foe  and  the  column  in 
their  rear;  the  Hessians  followed  more  slowly,  but  in  better  order 
The  trumpets  of  the  Virginians  now  sounded  long  and  lively;  they 
were  answered  by  a strain  from  the  party  in  ambush  that  went  to 
the  hearts  of  their  enemies.  The  column  of  Dunwoodie  wheeled  in 
perfect  order,  opened,  and,  as  the  word  to  charge  was  given,  the 
troops  of  Lawton  emerged  from  their  cover,  with  their  leader  in  ad- 
vance, waving  his  sabre  over  his  head,  and  shouting,  in  a voice  that 
was  heard  above  the  clangour  of  the  martial  music. 

The  charge  threatened  too  much  for  the  refugee  troop.  They 
scattered  in  every  direction,  flying  from  the  field  as  fast  as  their 
horses,  the  chosen  beasts  of  West-Chester,  could  carry  them.  Only 
a few  were  hurt : but  such  as  did  meet  the  arms  of  their  avenging 
countrymen  never  survived  the  blow,  to  tell  who  struck  it.  It  was 
upon  the  poor  vassals  of  the  German  tyrant  that  the  shock  fell. 
Disciplined  to  the  most  exact  obedience,  these  ill-fated  men  met  the 
charge  bravely,  but  they  were  swept  before  the  mettled  horses  and 
nervous  arms  of  their  antagonists  like  chaff  before  the  wind.  Many 
of  them  were  literally  ridden  down,  and  Dunwoodie  soon  saw  the 
field  without  an  opposing  foe.  The  proximity  of  the  infantry  pre- 
vented pursuit,  and  behind  its  column  the  few  Hessians  who  escaped 
unhurt  sought  protection. 

The  more  cunning  refugees  dispersed  in  small  bands,  taking  va- 
rious and  devious  routes  back  to  their  old  station  in  front  of  Harlaem. 
Many  was  the  sufferer,  in  cattle,  furniture,  and  person,  that  was 
created  by  this  rout ; for  the  dispersion  of  a troop  of  Cow-Boys  was 
only  the  extension  of  an  evil. 

Such  a scene  could  not  be  expected  to  be  acted  so  near  them, 
and  the  inmates  of  the  cottage  take  no  interest  in  the  result.  In 
truth,  the  feelings  it  excited  pervaded  every  bosom,  from  the  kitchen 
to  the  parlour.  Terror  and  horror  had  prevented  the  ladies  from 
being  spectators,  but  they  did  not  feel  the  less.  Frances  continued 


THE  SPY. 


9Y 


lying  in  the  posture  we  have  mentioned,  offering  up  fervent  and  ir> 
coherent  petitions  for  the  safety  of  her  countrymen,  although  in  hex 
inmost  heart  she  had  personified  her  nation  by  the  graceful  image  ot 
Peyton  Hunwoodie.  Her  aunt  and  sister  were  less  exclusive  in  theii 
devotions ; but  Sarah  began  to  feel,  as  the  horrors  of  war  were  thus 
brought  home  to  her  senses,  less  pleasure  in  her  anticipated  triumphs. 

The  inmates  of  Mr.  Wharton’s  kitchen  were  four — namely,  Caesai 
and  his  spouse,  their  grand-daughter,  a jet-black  damsel  of  twenty, 
and  the  boy  before  alluded  to.  The  blacks  were  the  remnants  of  a 
race  of  negroes  which  had  been  entailed  on  his  estate  from  Mr. 
Wharton’s  maternal  ancestors,  who  were  descended  from  the  early 
Hutch  colonists.  Time,  depravity,  and  death  had  reduced  them  tc 
this  small  number ; and  the  boy,  who  was  white,  had  been  added  by 
Miss  Peyton  to  the  establishment,  as  an  assistant,  to  perform  the 
ordinary  services  of  a footman.  Caesar,  after  first  using  the  precau- 
tion to  place  himself  under  the  cover  of  an  angle  in  the  wall,  for  a 
screen  against  any  roving  bullet  which  might  be  traversing  the  air, 
became  an  amused  spectator  of  the  skirmish.  The  sentinel  on  the 
piazza  was  at  the  distance  of  but  a few  feet  from  him,  and  he  entered 
into  the  spirit  of  the  chase  with  all  the  ardour  of  a tried  blood-hound : 
he  noticed  the  approach  of  the  black,  and  his  judicious  position,  with 
a smile  of  contempt,  as  he  squared  himself  towards  the  enemy,  offer- 
ing his  unprotected  breast  to  any  dangers  which  might  come. 

After  considering  the  arrangement  of  Caesar,  for  a moment,  with 
ineffable  disdain,  the  dragoon  said,  with  great  coolness  — 

u You  seem  very  careful  of  that  beautiful  person  of  yours,  Mr. 
Blueskin .” 

“A  bullet  hurt  a coloured  man  as  much  as  a white,”  muttered  the 
black,  surlily,  casting  a glance  of  much  satisfaction  at  his  rampart. 

u Suppose  I make  the  experiment,”  returned  the  sentinel : as  he 
spoke,  he  deliberately  drew  a pistol  from  his  belt,  and  levelled  it  at 
the  black.  Caesar’s  teeth  chattered  at  the  appearance  of  the  dragoon, 
although  he  believed  nothing  serious  was  intended.  At  this  moment 

5 


98 


THE  STY, 


the  column  of  Dunwoodie  began  to  retire,  and  the  royal  cavalry 
commenced  their  charge. 

“ There,  Mister  Light-Horseman,”  said  Caesar  eagerly,  who  be* 
lieved  the  Americans  were  retiring  in  earnest;  u why  you  rebels 
don’t  fight  — see  — see  how  King  George’s  men  make  Major  Dun* 
woodie  run  ! Good  gentleman,  too,  but  he  don’t  like  to  fight  a rig’lar.” 

u Damn  your  regulars,”  cried  the  other,  fiercely  : u wait  a minute, 
blackey,  and  you’ll  see  Captain  Jack  Lawton  come  out  from  behind 
yonder  hill,  and  scatter  these  Cow-Boys  like  wild  geese  who’ve  lost 
their  leader.” 

Caesar  supposed  the  party  under  Lawton  to  have  sought  the 
shelter  of  the  hill  from  motives  similar  to  that  which  had  induced 
him  to  place  the  wall  between  himself  and  the  battle-ground ; but 
the  fact  soon  verified  the  trooper’s  prophecy,  and  the  black  wit- 
nessed with  consternation  the  total  rout  of  the  royal  horse. 

The  sentinel  manifested  his  exultation  at  the  success  of  his  com- 
rades with  loud  shouts,  which  soon  brought  his  companion,  who  had 
been  left  in  the  more  immediate  charge  of  Henry  Wharton,  to  the 
open  window  of  the  parlour. 

u See,  Tom,  see,”  cried  the  delighted  trooper,  “ how  Captain 
Lawton  makes  that  Hessian’s  leather  cap  fly;  and  now  the  Major 
has  killed  the  officer’s  horse  — zounds,  why  didn’t  he  kill  the 
Dutchman,  and  save  the  horse?” 

A few  pistols  were  discharged  at  the  flying  Cow-Boys,  and  a spent 
bullet  broke  a pane  of  glass  within  a few  feet  of  Caesar.  Imitating 
the  posture  of  the  great  tempter  of  our  race,  the  black  sought  the 
protection  of  the  inside  of  the  building,  and  immediately  ascended 
to  the  parlour. 

The  lawn  in  front  of  the  Locusts  was  hidden  from  the  view  of  the 
road  by  a close  line  of  shrubbery,  and  the  horses  of  the  two  dragoons 
had  been  left,  linked  together,  under  its  shelter  to  await  the  move- 
ments of  their  masters. 

At  this  moment  two  Cow-Boys,  who  had  been  cut  oft’  from  a 


THE  SPY. 


99 


retreat  to  their  own  party/  rode  furiously  through  the  gate,  with 
an  intention  of  escaping  to  the  open  wood  in  the  rear  of  the  cottage. 

The  victorious  Americans  pressed  the  retreating  Germans  until 
they  had  driven  them  under  the  protection  of  the  fire  of  the 
infantry;  and  feeling  themselves,  in  the  privacy  of  the  lawn, 
relieved  from  any  immediate  danger,  the  predatory  warriors  yielded 
to  a temptation  that  few  of  the  corps  were  ever  known  to  resist  — 
opportunity  and  horseflesh.  With  a hardihood  and  presence  of 
mind  that  could  only  exist  from  long  practice  in  similar  scenes, 
they  made  towards  their  intended  prizes,  by  an  almost  spontaneous 
movement.  They  were  busily  engaged  in  separating  the  fastenings 
of  the  horses,  when  the  trooper  on  the  piazza  discharged  his  pistols, 
and  rushed,  sword  in  hand,  to  the  rescue. 

The  entrance  of  Caesar  into  the  parlour  had  induced  the  wary 
dragoon  within,  to  turn  his  attention  more  closely  on  his  prisoner ; 
but  this  new  interruption  drew  him  again  to  the  window.  He  threw 
his  body  out  of  the  building,  and  with  dreadful  imprecations  endear 
voured,  by  his  threats  and  appearance,  to  frighten  the  marauders 
from  their  prey.  The  moment  was  enticing.  Three  hundred 
of  his  comrades  were  within  a mile  of  the  cottage ; unridden  horses 
were  running  at  large  in  every  direction,  and  Henry  Wharton 
seized  the  unconscious  sentinel  by  his  legs,  and  threw  him  headlong 
into  the  lawn.  — Caesar  vanished  from  the  room,  and  drew  a bolt 
of  the  outer  door. 

The  fall  of  the  soldier  was  not  great,  and  recovering  his  feet,  he 
turned  his  fury  for  a moment  on  his  prisoner.  To  scale  the  window 
in  the  face  of  such  an  enemy,  was,  however,  impossible,  and  on  trial 
he  found  the  main  entrance  barred. 

His  comrade  now  called  loudly  upon  him  for  aid,  and  forgetful 
of  every  thing  else,  the  discomfited  trooper  rushed  to  his  assistance. 
One  horse  was  instantly  liberated,  but  the  other  was  already 
fastened  to  the  saddle  of  a Cow-Boy,  and  the  four  retired  behind 
the  building,  cutting  furiously  at  each  other  with  their  sabres,  and 


100 


THE  SPY. 


making  the  air  resound  with  their  imprecations.  Crnsar  threw  the 
outer  door  open,  and  pointing  to  the  remaining  horse,  that  was 
quietly  biting  the  faded  herbage  of  the  lawn,  he  exclaimed  — 

“ Run  — now  — run  — Massa  Harry,  run.” 

“Yes,”  cried  the  youth  as  he  vaulted  into  the  saddle,  “now, 
indeed,  my  honest  fellow,  is  the  time  to  run.”  He  beckoned 
hastily  to  his  father,  who  stood  at  the  window  in  speechless  anxiety, 
with  his  hands  extended  towards  his  child  in  the  attitude  of  bene- 
diction,  and  adding,  “ God  bless  you,  Caesar,  salute  the  girls,” 
he  dashed  through  the  gate,  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning. 

The  African  watched  him  with  anxiety  as  he  gained  the  highway, 
saw  him  incline  to  the  right,  and  riding  furiously  under  the  brow  of 
some  rocks,  which  on  that  side  rose  perpendicularly,  disappear  be- 
hind a projection,  which  soon  hid  him  from  view. 

The  delighted  Caesar  closed  the  door,  pushing  bolt  after  bolt,  and 
turning  the  key  until  it  would  turn  no  more,  soliloquising  the  whole 
time  on  the  happy  escape  of  his  young  master. 

“How  well  he  ride — teach  him  good  deal  myself — salute  a young 
lady — Miss  Fanny  wouldn’t  let  old  coloured  man  kiss  a red  cheek.” 
When  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  decided,  and  the  time  arrived 
for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  two  Cow-Boys  and  a Virginian  were  found 
in  the  rear  of  the  Locusts,  to  be  included  in  the  number. 

Happily  for  Henry  Wharton,  the  searching  eyes  of  his  captor 
were  examining,  through  a pocket-glass,  the  column  of  infantry  that 
still  held  its  position  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  while  the  remnants 
of  the  Hessian  yagers  were  seeking  its  friendly  protection.  His 
horse  was  of  the  best  blood  of  Virginia,  and  carried  him  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  wind  along  the  valley;  and  the  heart  of  the  youth 
was  already  beating  tumultuously  with  pleasure  at  his  deliverance 
when  a well-known  voice  reached  his  startled  ear,  crying  aloud — 

“ Bravely  done,  Captain ! Don’t  spare  the  whip,  and  turn  to 
your  left  before  you  cross  the  brook.” 

Wharton  turned  his  head  in  surprise,  and  saw,  sitting  on  the 


THE  SPY. 


lOl 


point  of  a jutting  rock  that  commanded  a bird’s  e}  e view  of  the  val- 
ley, his  former  guide,  Harvey  Birch.  His  pack,  much  diminished 
in  size,  lay  at  the  feet  of  the  pedler,  who  waved  his  hat  to  the  youth, 
exultingly,  as  the  latter  flew  by  him.  The  English  captain  took  the 
advice  of  this  mysterious  being,  and  finding  a good  road,  which  led 
to  the  highway  that  intersected  the  valley,  turned  down  its  direction, 
and  was  soon  opposite  to  his  friends.  The  next  minute  he  crossed 
the  bridge,  and  stopped  his  charger  before  his  old  acquaintance, 
Colonel  Wellmere. 

u Captain  Wharton  !”  exclaimed  the  astonished  commander  of  the 
English  troops,  u dressed  in  mohair,  and  mounted  on  a rebel  dragooD 
horse  ! are  you  from  the  clouds  in  this  attire,  and  in  such  a style  V 9 
u Thank  God !”  cried  the  youth,  recovering  his  breath,  “ I am 
safe,  and  have  escaped  from  the  hands  of  my  enemies;  but  five 
minutes  since  and  I was  a prisoner,  and  threatened  with  the  gallows.” 
66  The  gallows,  Captain  Wharton ! surely  those  traitors  to  the 
king  would  never  dare  to  commit  another  murder  in  cold  blood ; is 
it  not  enough  that  they  took  the  life  of  Andre  ? wherefore  did  they 
threaten  you  with  a similar  fate  ?” 

“ Under  the  pretence  of  a similar  offence,”  said  the  captain,  briefly 
explaining  to  the  group  of  listeners  the  manner  of  his  capture,  the 
grounds  of  his  personal  apprehensions,  and  the  method  of  his  escape. 
By  the  time  he  had  concluded  his  narration,  the  fugitive  Germans 
were  collected  in  the  rear  of  the  column  of  infantry,  and  Colonel 
Wellmere  cried  aloud  — 

u From  my  soul  I congratulate  you,  my  brave  friend ; mercy  is  a 
quality  with  which  these  traitors  are  unacquainted,  and  you  are 
doubly  fortunate  in  escaping  from  their  hands  uninjured.  Prepare 
yourself  to  grant  me  your  assistance,  and  I will  soon  afford  you  a 
noble  revenge.” 

u I do  not  think  there  was  danger  of  personal  outrage  to  any  man, 
Colonel  Wellmere,  from  a party  that  Major  Dunwoodie  commands,” 
returned  young  Wharton,  with  a slight  glow  on  his  face  : “ his  clia- 


102 


T PI  E SPY. 


racter  is  above  the  imputation  of  such  an  offence ; neither  do  I tiiink 
it  altogether  prudent  to  cross  this  brook  into  the  open  plain,  in  the 
face  of  those  Virginian  horse,  flushed  as  they  must  be  with  the  sue 
cess  they  have  just  obtained/’ 

“ Do  you  call  the  rout  of  those  irregulars  and  these  sluggish  Hes- 
sians a deed  to  boast  of?”  said  the  other  with  a contemptuous  smile : 
“you  speak  of  the  affair,  Captain  Wharton,  as  if  your  boasted  Mr. 
Dunwoodie,  for  Major  he  is  none,  had  discomfited  the  body  guards 
of  your  king.” 

“And  I must  be  allowed  to  say,  Colonel  Wellmere,  that  if  the 
body  guards  of  my  king  were  in  yon  field,  they  would  meet  a foe 
that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  despise.  Sir,  my  boasted  Mr.  Dun- 
woodie is  the  pride  of  Washington’s  army  as  a cavalry  officer,”  cried 
Henry,  with  warmth. 

“ Dunwoodie — Dunwoodie  1”  repeated  the  Colonel  slowly ; “surely 
I have  met  the  gentleman  before.” 

“ I have  been  told  you  once  saw  him  for  a moment,  at  the  town 
residence  of  my  sisters,”  replied  Wharton,  with  a lurking  smile. 

“ Ah ! I do  remember  me  of  such  a youth ; and  does  the  most 
potent  congress  of  these  rebellious  colonies  intrust  their  soldiers  to 
the  leading  of  such  a warrior !” 

“Ask  the  commander  of  yon  Hessian  horse,  whether  he  thinks 
Major  Dunwoodie  worthy  of  the  confidence.” 

Colonel  Wellmere  was  far  from  wanting  that  kind  of  pride  which 
makes  a man  bear  himself  bravely  in  the  presence  of  his  enemies 
He  had  served  in  America  a long  time,  without  ever  meeting  with 
any  but  new  raised  levies,  or  the  militia  of  the  country.  These 
would  sometimes  fight,  and  that  fearlessly,  but  they  as  often  chose 
to  run  away  without  pulling  a trigger.  He  was  too  apt  to  judge 
from  externals,  and  thought  it  impossible  for  men  whose  gaiters 
were  so  clean,  whose  tread  so  regular,  and  who  wheeled  with 
so  much  accuracy,  to  be  beaten.  In  addition  to  all  these,  they 
were  Englishmen,  and  their  success  was  certain.  Colonel  Wellmere 


T UK  S V Y . 


103 


had  never  been  kept  much  in  the  field,  or  these  notions,  which  he 
had  brought  with  him  from  home,  and  which  had  been  greatly 
increased  by  the  vapouring  of  a garrisoned  town,  would  have  long 
since  vanished.  He  listened  to  the  warm  reply  of  Captain  Wharton 
with  a supercilious  smile,  and  then  enquired  — 

“ You  would  not  have  us  retire,  sir,  before  these  boasted  horse- 
men, without  doing  something  that  may  deprive  them  of  part  of  the 
glory  which  you  appear  to  think  they  have  gained  ?” 

“I  would  have  you  advised,  Colonel  Wellmere,  of  the  danger  you 
are  about  to  encounter.” 

“ Danger  is  but  an  unseemly  word  for  a soldier,”  continued  the 
British  commander  with  a sneer. 

“ And  one  as  little  dreaded  by  the  60th  as  any  corps  who  weai 
the  royal  livery,”  cried  Henry  Wharton,  fiercely ; “ give  but  the 
word  to  charge,  and  let  our  actions  speak.” 

“Now  again  I know  my  young  friend,”  said  Wellmere,  sooth- 
ingly ; “ but  if  you  have  any  thing  to  say  before  we  fight,  that  can 
in  any  manner  help  us  in  our  attack,  we  T1  listen.  You  know  the 
force  of  the  rebels : are  there  more  of  them  in  ambush  ?” 

“Yes,”  replied  the  youth,  chafing  still  with  the  other's  sneers, 
“ in  tha  skirt  of  this  wood  on  our  right  are  a small  party  of  foot : 
their  horse  are  all  before  you.” 

“Where  they  will  not  continue  long,”  cried  Wellmere,  turning 
to  the  few  officers  around  him.  “Gentlemen,  we  will  cross  the 
stream  in  column,  and  display  on  the  plain  beyond,  or  else  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  entice  these  valiant  Yankees  within  the  reach  of  our 
muskets.  Captain  Wharton,  I claim  your  assistance  as  an  aide- 
de-camp.” 

The  youth  shook  his  head  in  disapprobation  of  a movement  which 
his  good  sense  taught  him  was  rash,  but  prepared  with  alacrity  to 
perform  his  duty  in  the  impending  trial. 

During  this  conversation,  which  was  held  at  a small  distance  in 
advance  of  the  British  column,  and  in  full  view  of  the  Americans, 


104 


THE  SPY. 


Punwoodie  had  been  collecting  his  scattered  troops,  securing  his  fe  v 
prisoners,  and  retiring  to  the  ground  where  he  had  been  posted  at 
the  first  appearance  of  his  enemy.  Satisfied  with  the  success  he 
had  already  obtained,  and  believing  the  English  too  wary  to  give 
liim  an  opportunity  of  harassing  them  farther,  he  was  about  to  with- 
draw the  guides;  and,  leaving  a strong  party  on  the  ground  to 
watch  the  movement  of  the  regulars,  to  fall  back  a few  miles,  to  a 
favourable  place  for  taking  up  his  quarters  for  the  night.  Captain 
Lawton  was  reluctantly  listening  to  the  reasoning  of  his  commander, 
and  had  brought  out  his  favourite  glass,  to  see  if  no  opening  could 
be  found  for  an  advantageous  attack,  when  he  suddenly  exclaimed — 

“ How  ?s  this  ? a blue  coat  among  those  scarlet  gentry.  As  I 
hope  to  live  to  see  old  Virginia,  it  is  my  masquerading  friend  of  the 
60th,  the  handsome  Captain  Wharton,  escaped  from  two  of  my 
best  men !” 

He  had  not  done  speaking  when  the  survivor  of  these  heroes 
joined  his  troop,  bringing  with  him  his  own  horse  and  those  of  the 
Cow-Boys : he  reported  the  death  of  his  comrade,  and  the  escape 
of  his  prisoner.  As  the  deceased  was  the  immediate  sentinel  over 
the  person  of  young  Wharton,  and  the  other  was  not  to  be  blamed 
for  defending  the  horses,  which  were  more  particularly  under  his 
care,  his  captain  heard  him  with  uneasiness,  but  without  anger. 

This  intelligence  made  an  entire  change  in  the  views  of  Major 
Punwoodie.  He  saw  at  once  that  his  own  reputation  was  involved 
in  the  escape  of  his  prisoner.  The  order  to  recall  the  guides  was 
countermanded,  and  he  now  joined  his  second  in  command,  watching 
as  eagerly  as  the  impetuous  Lawton  himself,  for  some  opening  to 
rssail  his  foe  to  advantage. 

But  two  hours  before,  and  Punwoodie  had  felt  the  chance  which 
made  Henry  Wharton  his  captive,  as  the  severest  blow  he  had  ever 
sustained.  Now  he  panted  for  an  opportunity  in  which,  by  risking 
his  own  life,  he  might  recapture  his  friend.  All  other  considerations 
were  lost  in  the  goadings  of  a wounded  spirit,  and  he  might  have 


T H E SPY. 


105 


soon  emulated  Lawton  in  hardihood,  had  not  Welimere  and  his 
troops  at  this  moment  crossed  the  brook  into  the  open  plain. 

“There,”  cried  the  delighted  Captain,  as  he  pointed  out  the 
movement  with  his  finger,  “there  comes  John  Bull  into  the  mouse- 
trap, and  with  eyes  wide  open.” 

“ Surely,”  said  Dunwoodie,  eagerly,  “ he  will  not  display  his  co- 
lumn on  that  flat : Wharton  must  tell  him  of  the  ambush.  But  if 
he  does — ” 

“We  will  not  leave  him  a dozen  sound  skins  in  his  battalion,” 
interrupted  the  other,  springing  into  his  saddle. 

The  truth  was  soon  apparent;  for  the  English  column,  after  ad- 
vancing for  a short  distance  on  the  level  land,  displayed  with  an 
accuracy  that  would  have  done  them  honour  on  a field-day  in  their 
own  Hyde  Park. 

“ Prepare  to  mount  — mount !”  cried  Dunwoodie ; the  last  word 
being  repeated  by  Lawton  in  a tone  that  rang  in  the  ears  of  Caesar, 
who  stood  at  the  open  window  of  the  cottage.  The  black  recoiled  in 
dismay,  having  lost  all  his  confidence  in  Captain  Lawton’s  timidity; 
for  he  thought  he  yet  saw  him  emerging  from  his  cover  and  waving 
his  sword  on  high. 

As  the  British  line  advanced  slowly  and  in  exact  order,  the  guides 
opened  a galling  fire.  It  began  to  annoy  that  part  of  the  royal 
troops  which  was  nearest  to  them.  Welimere  listened  to  the  advice 
of  the  veteran  who  was  next  to  him  in  rank,  and  ordered  two  com- 
panies to  dislodge  the  American  foot  from  their  hiding-place.  The 
movement  created  a slight  confusion;  and  Dunwoodie  seized  the 
opportunity  to  charge.  No  ground  could  be  more  favourable  for  the 
manoeuvres  of  horse,  and  the  attack  of  the  Virginians  was  irresistible. 
It  was  aimed  chiefly  at  the  bank  opposite  to  the  wood,  in  order  to 
clear  the  Americans  from  the  fire  of  their  friends  who  were  concealed; 
and  it  was  completely  successful.  Welimere,  who  was  on  the  left 
of  his  line,  was  overthrown  by  the  impetuous  fury  of  his  assailants. 
Dunwoodie  was  in  time  to  save  him  from  the  impending  blow  of  one 

5* 


100 


T HE  SPY. 


of  his  men,  and  raised  him  from  the  ground,  had  him  placed  on  a 
horse,  and  delivered  to  the  custody  of  his  orderly.  The  officer  who 
had  suggested  the  attack  upon  the  guides  had  been  intrusted  with 
its  execution,  but  the  menace  was  sufficient  for  these  irregulars.  In 
fact,  their  duty  was  performed,  and  they  retired  along  the  skirt  of 
the  wood,  with  intent  to  regain  their  horses,  which  had  been  left 
under  a guard  at  the  upper  end  of  the  valley. 

The  left  of  the  British  line  was  outflanked  by  the  Americans, 
who  doubled  in  their  rear,  and  thus  made  the  rout  in  that  quarter 
total.  But  the  second  in  command,  perceiving  how  the  battle  went, 
promptly  wheeled  his  party,  and  threw  in  a heavy  fire  on  the  dra- 
goons, as  they  passed  him  to  the  charge ; with  this  party  was  Henry 
Wharton,  who  had  volunteered  to  assist  in  dispersing  the  guides : a 
ball  struck  his  bridle-arm,  and  compelled  him  to  change  hands.  As 
the  dragoons  dashed  by  them,  rending  the  air  with  their  shouts,  and 
with  trumpets  sounding  a lively  strain,  the  charger  ridden  by  the 
youth  became  ungovernable  — he  plunged,  reared,  and  his  rider 
being  unable,  with  his  wounded  arm,  to  manage  the  impatient  ani- 
mal, Henry  Wharton  found  himself,  in  less  than  a minute,  unwill- 
ingly riding  by  the  side  of  Captain  Lawton.  The  dragoon  compre- 
hended at  a glance  the  ludicrous  situation  of  his  new  comrade,  but 
had  only  time  to  cry  aloud,  before  they  plunged  into  the  English 
line  — 

“The  horse  knows  the  righteous  cause  better  than  his  rider. 
Captain  Wharton,  you  are  welcome  to  the  ranks  of  freedom.” 

No  time  was  lost,  however,  by  Lawton,  after  the  charge  was  com- 
pleted, in  securing  his  prisoner  again;  and,  perceiving  him  to  be 
hurt,  he  directed  him  to  be  conveyed  to  the  rear. 

The  Virginian  troopers  dealt  out  their  favours,  with  no  gentle 
hands,  on  that  part  of  the  royal  foot  who  were  thus  left  in  a great 
measure  at  their  mercy.  Dunwoodie,  observing  that  the  remnant 
of  the  Hessians  had  again  ventured  on  the  plain,  led  on  in  pursuit, 


T HE  Spy. 


107 


and  easily  overtaking  tlieir  light  and  half-fed  horses,  soon  destroyed 
the  remainder  of  the  detachment. 

In  the  mean  while,  great  numbers  of  the  English,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  smoke  and  confusion  in  the  field,  were  enabled  to  get  in 
the  rear  of  the  body  of  their  countrymen,  which  still  preserved  its 
order  in  a line  parallel  to  the  wood,  but  which  had  been  obliged  to 
hold  its  fire,  from  the  fear  of  injuring  friends  as  well  as  foes.  The 
fugitives  were  directed  to  form  a second  line  within  the  wood  itself, 
and  under  cover  of  the  trees.  This  arrangement  was  not  yet  com- 
pleted, when  Captain  Lawton  called  to  a youth,  who  commanded 
the  other  troop  left  with  that  part  of  the  force  which  remained  on 
the  ground,  and  proposed  charging  the  unbroken  line  of  the  British. 
The  proposal  was  as  promptly  accepted  as  it  had  been  made,  and 
the  troops  were  arrayed  for  the  purpose.  The  eagerness  of  their 
leader  prevented  the  preparations  necessary  to  ensure  success,  and 
the  horse,  receiving  a destructive  fire  as  they  advanced,  were  thrown 
into  additional  confusion.  Both  Lawton  and  his  more  juvenile 
comrade  fell  at  this  discharge.  Fortunately  for  the  credit  of  the 
Virginians,  Major  Dunwoodie  re-entered  the  field  at  this  critical 
instant;  he  saw  his  troops  in  disorder;  at  his  feet  lay  weltering  in 
blood  George  Singleton,  a youth  endeared  to  him  by  numberless 
virtues,  and  Lawton  was  unhorsed,  and  stretched  on  the  plain.  The 
eye  of  the  youthful  warrior  flashed  fire.  Biding  between  this 
squadron  and  the  enemy,  in  a voice  that  reached  the  hearts  of  his 
dragoons,  he  recalled  them  to  their  duty.  His  presence  and  words 
acted  like  magic.  The  clamour  of  voices  ceased;  the  line  was 
formed  promptly  and  with  exactitude;  the  charge  sounded;  and, 
led  on  by  their  commander,  the  Virginians  swept  across  the  plain 
with  an  impetuosity  that  nothing  could  withstand,  and  the  field  was 
instantly  cleared  of  the  enemy : those  who  were  not  destroyed 
sought  a shelter  in  the  woods.  Dunwoodie  slowly  withdrew  from 
the  fire  of  the  English  who  were  covered  by  the  trees,  and  com- 
menced the  painful  duty  of  collecting  his  dead  and  wounded. 


lUb 


THE  Spy, 


The  sergeant,  charged  with  conducting  Henry  Wharton  to  t 
place  where  he  might  procure  surgical  aid,  set  about  performing  his 
duty  with  alacrity,  in  order  to  return  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  scene 
of  strife.  They  had  not  reached  the  middle  of  the  plain,  before  the 
captain  noticed  a man  whose  appearance  and  occupation  forcibly 
arrested  his  attention.  His  head  was  bald  and  bare,  but  a well- 
powdered  wig  was  to  be  seen,  half-concealed,  in  the  pocket  of  his 
breeches.  His  coat  was  off,  and  his  arms  were  naked  to  the  elbow  ; 
blood  had  disfigured  much  of  his  dress,  and  his  hands,  and  even 
face,  bore  this  mark  of  his  profession ; in  his  mouth  was  a segar ; 
in  his  right  hand  some  instruments  of  strange  formation,  and  in  his 
leh;  the  remnants  of  an  apple,  with  which  he  occasionally  relieved 
the  duty  of  the  before-mentioned  segar.  He  was  standing,  lost  in 
the  contemplation  of  a Hessian,  who  lay  breathless  before  him.  At 
a little  distance  were  three  or  four  of  the  guides,  leaning  on  their 
muskets,  and  straining  their  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  combatants, 
and  at  his  elbow  stood  a man  who,  from  the  implements  in  his  hand, 
and  his  bloody  vestments,  seemed  an  assistant. 

“There,  sir,  is  the  doctor,”  said  the  attendant  of  Henry,  very 
coolly ; “ he  will  patch  up  your  arm  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  ;’s 
and  beckoning  to  the  guides  to  approach,  he  whispered  and  pointed 
to  his  prisoner,  and  then  galloped  furiously  towards  his  com- 
rades. 

Wharton  advanced  to  the  side  of  this  strange  figure,  and  observ- 
ing himself  to  be  unnoticed,  was  about  to  request  his  assistance, 
when  the  other  broke  silence  in  a soliloquy — 

“ Now,  I know  this  man  to  have  been  killed  by  Captain  Lawton, 
as  well  as  if  I had  seen  him  strike  the  blow.  How  often  have  I 
strove  to  teach  him  the  manner  in  which  he  can  disable  his  adver- 
sary, without  destroying  life  ! It  is  cruel  thus  unnecessarily  to  cut 
off  the  human  race,  and  furthermore,  such  blows  as  these  render 
professional  assistance  unnecessary  ; it  is  in  a measure  treating  the 
lights  of  science  with  disrespect.” 


THE  SPY. 


109 


“ If,  sir,  your  leisure  will  admit,”  said  Henry  Wharton,  “ I must 
beg  your  attention  to  a slight  hurt.” 

“Ah !”  cried  the  other,  starting,  and  examining  him  from  head  to 
foot,  “ you  are  from  the  field  below ; is  there  much  business  there, 
sir?” 

“ Indeed,”  answered  Henry,  accepting  the  offer  of  the  surgeon  tc 
assist  in  removing  his  coat,  “ ’t  is  a stirring  time,  I can  assure  you.” 
“ Stirring  !”  repeated  the  surgeon,  busily  employed  with  his  dress- 
ings; “you  give  me  great  pleasure,  sir;  for  so  long  as  they  can  stir 
there  must  be  life ; and  while  there  is  life,  you  know,  there  is  hope ; 
but  here  my  art  is  of  no  use.  I did  put  in  the  brains  of  one  patient, 
but  I rather  think  the  man  must  have  been  dead  before  I saw  him. 
It  is  a curious  case,  sir ; I will  take  you  to  see  it  — only  across  the 
fence  there,  where  you  may  perceive  so  many  bodies  together.  Ah  ! 
the  ball  has  glanced  around  the  bone  without  shattering  it;  you  are 
fortunate  in  falling  into  the  hands  of  an  old  practitioner,  or  you 
might  have  lost  this  limb.” 

“ Indeed !”  said  Henry,  with  a slight  uneasiness ; “ I did  not 
apprehend  the  injury  to  be  so  serious.” 

“ Oh  ! the  hurt  is  not  bad,  but  you  have  such  a pretty  arm  for  an 
operation ; the  pleasure  of  the  thing  might  have  tempted  a novice.” 
“The  devil !”  cried  the  Captain;  “can  there  be  any  pleasure  in 
mutilating  a fellow-creature?” 

“ Sir,”  said  the  surgeon,  with  gravity,  “ a scientific  amputation  is 
a very  pretty  operation,  and  doubtless  might  tempt  a younger  man, 
in  the  hurry  of  business,  to  overlook  all  the  particulars  of  the  case.” 
Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  the 
dragoons,  slowly  marching  towards  their  former  halting-place,  and 
new  applications  from  the  slightly  wounded  soldiers,  who  now  came 
riding  in,  making  hasty  demands  on  the  skill  of  the  doctor. 

The  guides  took  charge  of  Wharton,  and,  with  a heavy  heart,  the 
young  man  retraced  his  steps  to  his  father’s  cottage. 

The  English  had  lost  in  the  several  charges  about  one-third  of 


110 


r II  E SPY. 


their  foot,  but  the  remainder  were  rallied  in  the  wood ; and  I)un- 
woodie,  perceiving  them  to  be  too  strongly  posted  to  assail,  had  left 
a strong  party  with  Captain  Lawton,  with  orders  to  watch  their  mo- 
tions, and  to  seize  every  opportunity  to  harass  them  before  they  re- 
embarked. 

Intelligence  had  reached  the  Major  of  another  party  being  out,  by 
the  way  of  the  Hudson,  and  his  duty  required  that  he  should  hold 
himself  in  readiness  to  defeat  the  intentions  of  these  also.  Captain 
Lawton  received  his  orders,  with  strong  injunctions  to  make  no  assault 
on  the  foe,  unless  a favourable  chance  should  offer.  The  injury  re- 
ceived by  this  officer  was  in  the  head,  being  stunned  by  a glancing 
bullet;  and  parting  with  a laughing  declaration  from  the  Major,  that 
if  he  again  forgot  himself,  they  should  all  think  him  more  materially 
hurt,  each  took  his  own  course. 

The  British  were  a light  party  without  baggage,  that  had  been 
sent  out  to  destroy  certain  stores,  understood  to  be  collecting  for  the 
use  of  the  American  army.  They  now  retired  through  the  woods  to 
the  heights,  and,  keeping  the  route  along  their  summits,  in  places 
unassailable  by  cavalry,  commenced  a retreat  to  their  boats. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

“ With  fire  and  sword  the  country  round 
Was  wasted  far  and  wide ; 

And  many  a childing  mother  then, 

And  new-born  infant,  died  ; 

But  things  like  these,  you  know,  must  be 
At  every  famous  victory.” 

The  last  sounds  of  the  combat  died  on  the  ears  of  the  anxious  listen- 
ers in  the  cottage,  and  were  succeeded  by  the  stillness  of  suspense. 
Frances  had  continued  by  herself,  striving  to  exclude  the  uproar, 
and  vainly  endeavouring  to  summon  resolution  to  meet  the  dreaded 
result.  The  ground  where  the  charge  on  the  foot  had  taken  place 
was  but  a short  mile  from  the  Locusts,  and,  in  the  intervals  of  the 
musketry,  the  cries  of  the  soldiers  had  even  reached  the  ears  of  its 
inhabitants.  After  witnessing  the  escape  of  his  son,  Mr.  Wharton 
had  joined  his  sister  and  eldest  daughter  in  their  retreat,  and  the 
three  continued  fearfully  waiting  for  news  from  the  field.  Unable 
longer  to  remain  under  the  painful  uncertainty  of  her  situation, 
Frances  soon  added  herself  to  the  uneasy  group,  and  Caesar  was  di- 
rected to  examine  into  the  state  of  things  without,  and  report  on 
whose  banners  victory  had  alighted.  The  father  now  briefly  related 
to  his  astonished  children  the  circumstance  and  manner  of  their  bro- 
ther’s escape.  They  were  yet  in  the  freshness  of  their  surprise, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  Captain  Wharton,  attended  by  a couple 
of  the  guides,  and  followed  by  the  black,  stood  before  them. 

“Henry — my  son,  my  son,”  cried  the  agitated  parent,  stretching 


112 


THE  SPY. 


out  his  arms,  yet  unable  to  rise  from  his  seat;  lC what  is  it  I see? 
are  you  again  a captive,  and  in  danger  of  your  life?” 

u The  better  fortune  of  these  rebels  has  prevailed,”  said  the  youth, 
endeavouring  to  force  a cheerful  smile,  and  taking  a hand  of  each 
of  his  distressed  sisters.  u I strove  nobly  for  my  liberty ; but  the 
perverse  spirit  of  rebellion  has  even  lighted  on  their  horses.  The 
steed  I mounted  carried  me,  greatly  against  my  will,  I acknowledge, 
into  the  very  centre  of  Danwoodie’s  men.” 

u And  you  were  again  captured,”  continued  the  father,  casting  a 
fearful  glance  on  the  armed  attendants  who  had  entered  the  room. 

u That,  sir,  you  may  safely  say : this  Mr.  Lawton,  who  sees  sc 
far,  had  me  in  custody  again  immediately.” 

u Why  you  no  hold  ’em  in,  Massa  Harry  ?”  cried  Caesar,  pettishly. 
“ That,”  said  Wharton,  smiling,  “ was  a thing  easier  said  than 
done,  Mr.  Caesar,  especially  as  these  gentlemen”  (glancing  his  eye3 
at  the  guides)  “ had  seen  proper  to  deprive  me  of  the  use  of  my 
better  arm.” 

“ Wounded  !”  exclaimed  both  sisters  in  a breath. 

“ A mere  scratch,  but  disabling  me  at  a most  critical  moment,” 
continued  the  brother,  kindly,  and  stretching  out  the  injured  limb 
to  manifest  the  truth  of  his  declaration.  Caesar  threw  a look  of 
bitter  animosity  on  the  irregular  warriors  who  were  thought  to  have 
had  an  agency  in  the  deed,  and  left  the  room.  A few  more  words 
sufficed  to  explain  all  that  Captain  Wharton  knew  relative  to  the 
fortune  of  the  day.  The  result  he  thought  yet  doubtful,  for  when 
he  left  the  ground,  the  Virginians  were  retiring  from  the  field  of 
battle. 

“ They  had  tree’d  the  squirrel,”  said  one  of  the  sentinels  abruptly, 
“ and  didn’t  quit  the  ground  without  leaving  a good  hound  for  the 
chase,  when  he  comes  down.” 

“ Ay,”  added  his  comrade,  drily,  “ I’m  thinking  Captain  Lawton 
will  count  the  noses  of  what  are  left  before  they  see  their  whale- 
boats.” 


THE  SPY. 


113 


Frances  had  stood  supporting  herself  by  the  back  of  a chair,  dur- 
ing this  dialogue,  catching  in  breathless  anxiety  every  syllable  as  it 
was  uttered;  her  colour  changed  rapidly;  her  limbs  shook  under 
her ; until,  with  desperate  resolution,  she  enquired  — 

“Is  any  officer  hurt  on  — the  — on  either  side?” 

“Yes,”  answered  the  man,  cavalierly,  “these  southern  youths 
are  so  full  of  mettle,  that  it  's  seldom  we  fight  but  one  or  two  gets 
knocked  over ; one  of  the  wounded,  who  came  up  before  the  troops, 
told  me  that  Captain  Singleton  was  killed,  and  Major  Dunwoodie — ” 
Frances  heard  no  more,  but  fell  lifeless  in  the  chair  behind  her. 
The  attention  of  her  friends  soon  revived  her,  when  the  Captain, 
turning  to  the  man,  said,  fearfully — 

“ Surely  Major  Dunwoodie  is  unhurt  ?” 

“Never  fear  him,”  added  the  guide,  disregarding  the  agitation  of 
the  family ; “ they  say  a man  who  is  born  to  be  hanged  will  never 
be  drowned : if  a bullet  could  kill  the  Major,  he  would  have  been 
dead  long  ago.  X was  going  to  say,  that  the  Major  is  in  a sad  taking 
because  of  the  CaptahTs  being  killed ; but  had  I known  how  much 
store  the  lady  set  by  him,  I would  n't  have  been  so  plain-spoken.” 
Frances  now  rose  quickly  from  her  seat,  with  cheeks  glowing  with 
confusion,  and,  leaning  on  her  aunt,  was  about  to  retire,  when  Dun- 
woodie himself  appeared.  The  first  emotion  of  the  agitated  girl  was 
unalloyed  happiness;  in  the  next  instant  she  shrank  back  appalled 
from  the  unusual  expression  that  reigned  in  his  countenance.  The 
sternness  of  battle  yet  sat  on  his  brow ; his  eye  was  fixed  and  severe. 
The  smile  of  affection  that  used  to  lighten  his  dark  features  on  meet- 
ing his  mistress,  was  supplanted  by  the  lowering  look  of  care ; his 
whole  soul  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  one  engrossing  emotion,  and  he 
proceeded  at  once  to  his  object. 

“ Mr.  Wharton,”  he  earnestly  began,  “ in  times  like  these,  we 
need  not  stand  on  idle  ceremony : one  of  my  officers,  I am  afraid,  is 
hurt  mortally;  and,  presuming  on  your  hospitality,  I have  brought 
him  to  your  door.” 


T H E SPY. 


J 14 

“1  am  happy,  sir,  that  you  hav^  done  so/’  said  Mr.  Wharton,  at 
once  perceiving  the  importance  of  conciliating  the  American  troops ; 
“ the  necessitous  are  always  welcome,  and  doubly  so,  in  being  the 
friend  of  Major  Dunwoodie.” 

“ Sir,  I thank  you  for  myself,  and  in  behalf  of  him  who  is  unabte 
to  render  you  his  thanks,”  returned  the  other,  hastily;  “if  you 
please,  we  will  have  him  conducted  where  the  surgeon  may  see  and 
report  upon  his  case,  without  delay.”  To  this  there  could  be  no 
objection ; and  Frances  felt  a chill  at  her  heart,  as  her  lover  with- 
drew, without  casting  a solitary  look  on  herself. 

There  is  a devotedness  in  female  love  that  admits  of  no  rivalry. 
All  the  tenderness  of  the  heart,  all  the  powers  of  the  imagination, 
are  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  tyrant  passion ; and  where  all  is  given, 
much  is  looked  for  in  return.  Frances  had  spent  hours  of  anguish, 
of  torture,  on  account  of  Dunwoodie,  arid  he  now  met  her  without  a 
smile,  and  left  her  without  a greeting.  The  ardour  of  her  feelings 
was  unabated,  but  the  elasticity  of  her  hopes  was  weakened.  As  the 
supporters  of  the  nearly  lifeless  body  of  Dunwoodie’ s friend  passed 
her,  in  their  way  to  the  apartment  prepared  for  his  reception,  she 
caught  a view  of  this  seeming  rival. 

His  pale  and  ghastly  countenance,  sunken  eye,  and  difficult  breath- 
ing, gave  her  a glimpse  of  death  in  its  most  fearful  form.  Dunwoo- 
die was  by  his  side,  and  held  his  hand,  giving  frequent  and  stern 
injunctions  to  the  men  to  proceed  with  care,  and,  in  short,  manifest- 
ing all  the  solicitude  that  the  most  tender  friendship  could,  on  such 
an  occasion,  inspire.  Frances  moved  lightly  before  them,  and,  with 
an  averted  face,  she  held  open  the  door  for  their  passage  to  the  bed ; 
it  was  only  as  the  Major  touched  her  garments,  on  entering  the  room, 
that  she  ventured  to  raise  her  mild  blue  eyes  to  his  face.  But  the 
glance  was  unreturned,  and  Frances  unconsciously  sighed  as  she 
sought  the  solitude  of  her  own  apartment. 

Captain  Wharton  voluntarily  gave  a pledge  to  his  keepers  not  to 
attempt  again  escaping,  and  then  proceeded  to  execute  those  duties, 


THE  SPY. 


115 


on  behalf  of  his  father,  which  were  thought  necessary  in  a host.  On 
entering  the  passage  for  that  purpose,  he  met  the  operator  who  had 
so  dexterousty  dressed  his  arm,  advancing  to  the  room  of  the  wounded 
officer. 

“Ah !”  cried  the  disciple  of  Esculapius,  “ I see  you  are  doing  well ; 
but  stop ; have  you  a pin  ? No  ! here,  I have  one ; you  must  keep 
the  cold  air  from  your  hurt,  or  some  of  the  youngsters  will  be  at 
work  at  you  yet.” 

“ God  forbid,”  muttered  the  Captain,  in  an  under-tone,  attentively 
adjusting  the  bandages;  when  Dunwoodie  appeared  at  the  door, 
impatiently  crying  aloud  — 

“ Hasten,  Sitgreaves,  hasten ; or  George  Singleton  will  die  from 
loss  of  blood.” 

“What!  Singleton!  God  forbid  ! Bless  me  — is  it  George  — 
poor  little  George  ?”  exclaimed  the  surgeon,  as  he  quickened  his  pace 
with  evident  concern,  and  hastened  to  the  side  of  the  bed ; “ he  is 
alive,  though,  and  while  there  is  life  there  is  hope.  This  is  the  first 
serious  case  I have  had  to-day,  where  the  patient  was  not  already 
dead.  Captain  Lawton  teaches  his  men  to  strike  with  so  little  dis- 
cretion— poor  George — -bless  me,  it  is  a musket  bullet.” 

The  youthful  sufferer  turned  his  eyes  on  the  man  of  science,  and 
with  a faint  smile  endeavoured  to  stretch  forth  his  hand.  There 
was  an  appeal  in  the  look  and  action  that  touched  the  heart  of  the 
operator.  The  surgeon  removed  his  spectacles  to  wipe  an  unusual 
moisture  from  his  eyes,  and  proceeded  carefully  to  the  discharge  of 
his  duty.  While  the  previous  arrangements  were,  however,  making, 
be  gave  vent  in  some  measure  to  his  feelings,  by  saying  — 

“ When  it  is  only  a bullet,  I have  always  some  hopes ; there  is  a 
chance  that  it  hits  nothing  vital ; but,  bless  me,  Captain  Lawton’s 
men  cut  so  at  random — generally  sever  the  jugular  or  the  carotid 
artery,  or  let  out  the  brains,  and  all  are  so  difficult  to  remedy — the 
patient  mostly  dying  before  one  can  get  at  him.  I never  had  suc- 
cess but  once  in  replacing  a man’s  brains,  although  I have  tried 


116 


THE  SPY. 


three  this  very  day.  It  is  easy  to  tell  where  Lawton’s  troop  charge 
in  a battle,  they  cut  so  at  random.” 

The  group  around  the  bed  of  Captain  Singleton  were  too  much 
accustomed  to  the  manner  of  their  surgeon  to  regard  or  to  reply  to 
his  soliloquy;  but  they  quietly  awaited  the  moment  when  he  was  to 
commence  his  examination.  This  now  took  place,  and  Dunwoodie 
stood  looking  the  operator  in  the  face,  with  an  expression  that  seemed 
to  read  his  soul.  The  patient  shrunk  from  the  application  of  the 
probe,  and  a smile  stole  over  the  features  of  the  surgeon,  as  he  muk 
tered  — 

u There  has  been  nothing  before  it  in  that  quarter.”  He  now 
applied  himself  in  earnest  to  his  work,  took  off  his  spectacles,  and 
threw  aside  his  wig.  All  this  time  Dunwoodie  stood  in  feverish 
silence,  holding  one  of  the  hands  of  the  sufferer  in  both  his  own, 
watching  the  countenance  of  Doctor  Sitgreaves.  At  length  Single- 
ton  gave  a slight  groan,  and  the  surgeon  rose  with  alacrity,  and  said 
aloud  — 

u Ah ! there  is  some  pleasure  in  following  a bullet ; it  may  be 
said  to  meander  through  the  human  body,  injuring  nothing  vital ; 
but  as  for  Captain  Lawton’s  men  — ” 

u Speak,”  interrupted  Dunwoodie ; u is  there  hope  ? — can  you  find 
the  ball?” 

u It ’s  no  difficult  matter  to  find  that  which  one  has  in  his  hand, 
Major  Dunwoodie,”  replied  the  surgeon,  coolly,  preparing  his  dress- 
ings ; “it  took  what  that  literal  fellow,  Captain  Lawton,  calls  a cir- 
cumbendibus, a route  never  taken  by  the  swords  of  his  men,  not- 
withstanding the  multiplied  pains  I have  been  at  to  teach  him  how 
to  cut  scientifically.  Now,  I saw  a horse  this  day  with  his  head 
half  severed  from  his  body.” 

“ That,”  said  Dunwoodie,  as  the  blood  rushed  to  his  cheeks  again, 
and  his  dark  eyes  sparkled  with  the  rays  of  hope,  “ was  some  of  m;y 
handiwork ; I killed  that  horse  myself.” 


THE  S P Y . 


117 


“ You  !”  exclaimed  the  surgeon,  dropping  his  dressing  in  surprise 
“ you  ! hut  you  knew  it  was  a horse  !” 

“ T had  such  suspicions,  I own/’  said  the  Major,  smiling,  and 
holding  a beverage  to  the  lips  of  his  friend. 

“ Such  blows  alighting  on  the  human  frame  are  fatal,”  continued 
the  Doctor,  pursuing  his  business ; “ they  set  at  nought  the  benefits 
which  flow  from  the  lights  of  science ; they  are  useless  in  a battle, 
for  disabling  your  foe  is  all  that  is  required.  I have  sat,  Major 
Dunwoodie,  many  a cold  hour,  while  Captain  Lawton  has  been  en- 
gaged, and  after  all  my  expectation,  not  a single  case  worth  record- 
ing has  occurred — all  scratches  or  death-wounds ; ah  ! the  sabre  is  a 
sad  weapon  in  unskilful  hands ! Yes,  Major  Dunwoodie,  many  are 
the  hours  I have  thrown  away  in  endeavouring  to  impress  this  truth 
on  Captain  John  Lawton.” 

The  impatient  Major  pointed  silently  to  his  friend,  and  the  sur- 
geon quickened  his  movements. 

“ Ah  ! poor  George,  it  is  a narrow  chance ; but — ” he  was  inter- 
rupted by  a messenger  requiring  the  presence  of  the  commanding 
officer  in  the  field.  Dunwoodie  pressed  the  hand  of  his  friend,  and 
beckoned  the  Doctor  to  follow  him,  as  he  withdrew. 

“ What  think  you?”  he  whispered,  on  reaching  the  passage; 
“will  he  live?” 

“He  will.” 

“ Thank  God !”  cried  the  youth,  hastening  below. 

Dunwoodie  for  a moment  joined  the  family,  who  were  now  col- 
lecting in  the  ordinary  parlour.  His  face  was  no  longer  wanting  in 
smiles,  and  his  salutations,  though  hasty,  were  cordial.  He  took  no 
notice  of  the  escape  and  recapture  of  Henry  Wharton,  but  seemed 
to  think  the  young  man  had  continued  where  he  had  left  him  before 
the  encounter.  On  the  ground  they  had  not  met.  The  English 
officer  withdrew  in  haughty  silence  to  a window,  leaving  the  Major 
uninterrupted  to  make  his  communications. 

The  excitement  produced  by  the  events  of  the  day  in  the  youthful 


118 


T II  E S V Y . 


feelings  of  the  sifters,  had  been  succeeded  by  a languor  that  kept 
them  both  silent;  and  Dunwoodie  held  his  discourse  with  Miss  Peyton. 

“ Is  there  any  hope,  my  cousin,  that  your  friend  can  survive  his 
wound  ?”  said  the  lady,  advancing  towards  her  kinsman,  with  a smile 
of  benevolent  regard. 

u Every  thing,  my  dear  madam,  every  thing,”  answered  the  sol- 
dier cheerfully.  u Sitgreaves  says  he  will  live,  and  he  has  never 
deceived  me.” 

“ Your  pleasure  is  not  much  greater  than  my  own  at  this  intelli- 
gence. One  so  dear  to  Major  Dunwoodie  cannot  fail  to  excite  an 
interest  in  the  bosom  of  his  friends.” 

“ Say  one  so  deservedly  dear,  madam,”  returned  the  Major,  with 
warmth : “ he  is  the  beneficent  spirit  of  the  corps,  equally  beloved 
by  us  all;  so  mild,  so  equal,  so  just,  so  generous,  with  the  meekness 
of  a lamb  and  the  fondness  of  a dove — it  is  only  in  the  hour  of  battle 
that  Singleton  is  a lion.” 

“You  speak  of  him  as  if  he  were  your  mistress,  Major  Dun- 
woodie,” observed  the  smiling  spinster,  glancing  her  eye  at  her  niece, 
who  sat  pale  and  listening,  in  a corner  of  the  room. 

“ I love  him  as  one,”  cried  the  excited  youth  ; “ but  he  requires 
care  and  nursing;  all  now  depends  on  the  attention  he  receives.” 

“ Trust  me,  sir,  he  will  want  for  nothing  under  this  roof.” 
u Pardon  me,  dear  madam ; you  are  all  that  is  benevolent,  but 
Singleton  requires  a care  which  many  men  would  feel  to  be  irksome. 
It  is  at  moments  like  these,  and  in  sufferings  like  this,  that  the  sol- 
dier most  finds  the  want  of  female  tenderness.”  As  he  spoke,  he 
turned  his  eyes  on  Frances  with  an  expression  that  again  thrilled  to 
the  heart  of  his  mistress : she  rose  from  her  seat  with  burning 
cheeks,  and  said  — 

“ All  the  attention  that  can  with  propriety  be  given  to  a stranger, 
will  be  cheerfully  bestowed  on  your  friend.” 

“ Ah  !”  cried  the  Major,  shaking  his  head,  “ that  cold  word  pro 
priety  will  kill  him ; he  must  be  fostered,  cherished,  soothed.” 


THE  SPY. 


119 


' i These  are  offices  for  a sister  or  a wife.” 

UA  sister!”  repeated  the  soldier,  the  blood  rushing  to  his  <wn 
face  tumultuously;  “a  sister!  he  has  a sister;  and  one  that  might 
be  here  with  to-morrow’s  sun.”  He  paused,  mused  in  silence,  glanced 
his  eyes  uneasily  at  Frances,  and  muttered  in  an  under  tone — u ►Sin- 
gleton requires  it,  and  it  must  be  done.” 

The  ladies  had  watched  his  varying  countenance  in  some  surprise, 
and  Miss  Peyton  now  observed  that  — 

u If  there  were  a sister  of  Captain  Singleton  near  them,  her  pre- 
sence would  be  gladly  requested  both  by  herself  and  nieces.” 

“ It  must  be,  madam ; it  cannot  well  be  otherwise,”  replied  Dun- 
woodie,  with  a hesitation  that  but  ill  agreed  with  his  former  decla- 
rations ; “ she  shall  be  sent  for  express  this  very  night.”  And  then, 
as  if  willing  to  change  the  subject,  he  approached  Captain  Wharton, 
and  continued,  mildly — 

“ Henry  Wharton,  to  me  honour  is  dearer  than  life ; but  in  your 
hands  I know  it  can  safely  be  confided ; remain  here  un watched, 
until  we  leave  the  county,  which  will  not  be  for  some  days.” 

The  distance  in  the  manner  of  the  English  officer  vanished,  and 
taking  the  offered  hand  of  the  other,  he  replied  with  warmth — • 
u Your  generous  confidence,  Peyton,  will  not  be  abused,  even  though 
the  gibbet  on  which  your  Washington  hung  Andre  be  ready  for  my 
own  execution.” 

u Henry,  Henry  Wharton,”  said  Hunwoodie  reproachfully,  “ you 
little  know  the  man  who  leads  our  armies,  or  you  would  have  spared 
him  that  reproach ; but  duty  calls  me  without.  I leave  you  where 
I could  wish  to  stay  myself,  and  where  you  cannot  be  wholly 
unhappy.” 

In  passing  Frances,  she  received  another  of  those  smiling  looks 
of  affection  she  so  much  prized,  and  for  a season  the  impression 
made  by  his  appearance  after  the  battle  was  forgotten. 

Among  the  veterans  that  had  been  impelled  by  the  times  to 
abandon  the  quiet  of  age  for  the  service  of  their  country,  was 


120 


THE  SPY. 


Colonel  Singleton.  He  was  a native  of  Georgia,  and  had  been  for 
the  earlier  years  of  his  life  a soldier  by  profession.  When  the 
struggle  for  liberty  commenced,  he  offered  his  services  to  his 
country,  and  from  respect  to  his  character  they  had  been  accepted. 
His  years  and  health  had,  however,  prevented  his  discharging  the 
active  duties  of  the  field,  and  he  had  been  kept  in  command  of 
different  posts  of  trust,  where  his  country  might  receive  the  benefits 
of  his  vigilance  and  fidelity  without  inconvenience  to  himself.  For 
the  last  year  he  had  been  intrusted  with  the  passes  into  the  High- 
lands, and  was  now  quartered,  with  his  daughter,  but  a short  day’s 
march  above  the  valley  where  Dunwoodie  had  met  the  enemy. 
His  only  other  child  was  the  wounded  officer  we  have  mentioned. 
Thither,  then,  the  Major  prepared  to  despatch  a messenger  with  the 
unhappy  news  of  the  Captain’s  situation,  and  charged  with  such  an 
invitation  from  the  ladies  as  he  did  not  doubt  would  speedily  bring 
the  sister  to  the  couch  of  her  brother. 

This  duty  performed,  though  with  an  unwillingness  that  only 
could  make  his  former  anxiety  more  perplexing,  Dunwoodie  pro- 
ceeded to  the  field  where  his  troops  had  halted.  The  remnant  of 
the  English  were  already  to  be  seen,  over  the  tops  of  the  trees, 
marching  along  the  heights  towards  their  boats,  in  compact  order 
and  with  great  watchfulness.  The  detachment  of  the  dragoons 
under  Lawton  were  a short  distance  on  their  flank,  eagerly  awaiting 
a favourable  moment  to  strike  a blow.  In  this  manner  both  parties 
were  soon  lost  to  view. 

A short  distance  above  the  Locusts  was  a small  hamlet,  where 
several  roads  intersected  each  other,  and  from  which,  consequently, 
access  to  the  surrounding  country  was  easy.  It  was  a favourite 
halting-place  of  the  horse,  and  frequently  held  by  the  light  parties 
of  the  American  army  during  their  excursions  below.  Dunwoodie 
had  been  the  first  to  discover  its  advantages,  and  as  it  was  necessary 
for  him  to  remain  in  the  county  until  further  orders  from  above,  it 
cannot  be  supposed  he  overlooked  them  now.  To  this  place  the 


THE  SPT, 


121 


troops  wore  directed  to  retire,  carrying  with  them  their  wounded ; 
parties  were  already  employed  in  the  sad  duty  of  interring  the  dead. 
In  making  these  arrangements,  a new  object  of  embarrassment  pre- 
sented itself  to  our  young  soldier.  In  moving  through  the  field, 
he  was  struck  with  the  appearance  of  Colonel  Wellmere,  seated  by 
himself,  brooding  over  his  misfortunes,  uninterrupted  by  any  thing 
but  the  passing  civilities  of  the  American  officers.  His  anxiety  on 
behalf  of  Singleton  had  hitherto  banished  the  recollection  of  his 
captive  from  the  mind  of  Dunwoodie,  and  he  now  approached  him 
with  apologies  for  his  neglect.  The  Englishman  received  his  cour- 
tesies with  coolness,  and  complained  of  being  injured  by  what  he 
affected  to  think  was  the  accidental  stumbling  of  his  horse.  Dun- 
woodie, who  had  seen  one  of  his  own  men  ride  him  down,  and  that 
with  very  little  ceremony,  slightly  smiled,  as  he  offered  him  surgical 
assistance.  This  could  only  be  procured  at  the  cottage,  and  thither 
they  both  proceeded. 

u Colonel  Wellmere  !”  cried  young  Wharton  in  astonishment  as 
they  entered,  “ has  the  fortune  of  w^ar  been  thus  cruel  to  you  also  ? 
— but  you  are  welcome  to  the  house  of  my  father,  although  I could 
wish  the  introduction  to  have  taken  place  under  more  happy  circum- 
stances.” 

Mr.  Wharton  received  this  new  guest  with  the  guarded  caution 
that  distinguished  his  manner,  and  Dunwoodie  left  the  room  to  seek 
the  bedside  of  his  friend.  Every  thing  here  looked  propitious,  and 
he  acquainted  the  surgeon  that  another  patient  waited  his  skill  in 
the  room  below.  The  sound  of  the  word  was  enough  to  set  the 
doctor  in  motion,  and  seizing  his  implements  of  office,  he  went  in 
quest  of  this  new  applicant.  At  the  door  of  the  parlour  he  was  met 
by  the  ladies,  who  were  retiring.  Miss  Peyton  detained  him  for  a 
moment,  to  enquire  into  the  welfare  of  Captain  Singleton.  Frances 
smiled  with  something  of  her  natural  archness  of  manner,  as  she 
contemplated  the  grotesque  appearance  of  the  bald-headed  practi- 
tioner ; but  Sarah  was  too  much  agitated,  with  the  surprise  of  the 

6 


122 


THE  SPY. 


unexpected  interview  with  the  British  Colonel,  to  observe  him.  It 
has  already  been  intimated  that  Colonel  Wellmere  was  an  old 
acquaintance  of  the  family.  Sarah  had  been  so  long  absent  from 
the  city,  that  she  had  in  some  measure  been  banished  from  the 
remembrance  of  the  gentleman ; but  the  recollections  of  Sarah  were 
more  vivid.  There  is  a period  in  the  life  of  every  woman  when  she 
may  be  said  to  be  predisposed  to  love ; it  is  at  the  happy  age  when 
infancy  is  lost  in  opening  maturity  — when  the  guileless  heart  beats 
with  those  anticipations  of  life  which  the  truth  can  never  realize  — 
and  when  the  imagination  forms  images  of  perfection  that  are  copied 
after  its  own  unsullied  visions.  At  this  happy  age  Sarah  left  the 
city,  and  she  had  brought  with  her  a picture  of  futurity,  faintly 
impressed,  it  is  true,  but  which  gained  durability  from  her  solitude, 
and  in  which  Wellmere  had  been  placed  in  the  foreground.  The 
surprise  of  the  meeting  had  in  some  measure  overpowered  her,  and 
after  receiving  the  salutations  of  the  colonel,  she  had  risen,  in  com- 
pliance with  a signal  from  her  observant  aunt,  to  withdraw. 

“ Then,  sir,”  observed  Miss  Peyton,  after  listening  to  the  surgeon’s 
account  of  his  young  patient,  “ we  may  be  flattered  with  the  expec- 
tation that  he  will  recover.” 

“ ’T  is  certain,  madam,”  returned  the  doctor,  endeavouring,  out  of 
respect  to  the  ladies,  to  replace  his  wig;  “’tis  certain,  with  care  and 
good  nursing.” 

“ In  those  he  shall  not  be  wanting,”  said  the  spinster,  mildly. 
“ Every  thing  we  have  he  can  command,  and  Major  Dunwoodie  has 
despatched  an  express  for  his  sister.” 

“ His  sister !”  echoed  the  practitioner,  with  a look  of  particular 
meaning;  “if  the  Major  has  sent  for  her,  she  will  come.” 

“Her  brother’s  danger  would* induce  her,  one  would  imagine.” 
“No  doubt,  madam,”  continued  the  doctor,  laconically,  bowing 
low,  and  giving  room  to  the  ladies  to  pass.  The  words  and  the 
manner  were  not  lost  on  the  younger  sister,  in  whose  presence  the 
name  of  Dunwoodie  was  never  mentioned  unheeded. 


THE  SPY. 


123 


“Sir,”  cried  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  on  entering  the  parlour,  addressing 
himself  to  the  only  coat  of  scarlet  in  the  room,  “ I am  advised  you 
are  in  want  of  my  aid.  God  send  is  not  Captain  Lawton  with 
whom  you  came  in  contact,  in  which  case  I may  be  too  late.” 

“ There  must  be  some  mistake,  sir,”  said  Wellmere,  haughtily; 
“it  was  a surgeon  that  Major  Dunwoodie  was  to  send  me,  and  not 
an  old  woman.” 

“ 'T  is  Dr.  Sitgreaves,”  said  Henry  Wharton,  quickly,  though  with 
difficulty  suppressing  a laugh ; “ the  multitude  of  his  engagements, 
to-day,  has  prevented  his  usual  attention  to  his  attire.” 

“Your  pardon,  sir,”  added  Wellmere,  very  ungraciously  proceed- 
ing to  lay  aside  his  coat,  and  exhibit  what  he  called  a wounded  arm. 

“ If,  sir,”  said  the  surgeon,  drily,  “ the  degrees  of  Edinburgh  — 
walking  your  London  hospitals — amputating  some  hundreds  of  limbs 
— operating  on  the  human  frame  in  every  shape  that  is  warranted 
by  the  lights  of  science,  a clear  conscience,  and  the  commission  of 
the  Continental  Congress,  can  make  a surgeon,  I am  one.” 

“Your  pardon,  sir,”  repeated  the  Colonel,  stiffly.  “Captain 
Wharton  has  accounted  for  my  error.” 

“ For  which  I thank  Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  surgeon,  pro- 
ceeding coolly  to  arrange  his  amputating  instruments,  with  a formal- 
ity that  made  the  Colonel's  blood  run  cold.  “ Where  are  you  hurt, 
sir  ? What ! is  it  then  this  scratch  in  your  shoulder  ? In  what 
manner  might  you  have  received  this  wound,  sir  ?” 

“ From  the  sword  of  a rebel  dragoon,”  said  the  Colonel,  with 
emphasis. 

“Never.  Even  the  gentle  George  Singleton  would  not  have 
breathed  on  you  so  harmlessly.”  He  took  a piece  of  sticking-plaster 
from  his  pocket,  and  applied  it  to  the  part.  “ There,  sir ; that  will 
answer  your  purpose,  and  I am  certain  it  is  all  that  is  required 
of  me.” 

“ What  do  you  take  to  be  my  purpose,  then,  sir  ?” 

“To  report  yourself  wounded  in  your  despatches,”  replied  the 


124 


T HE  SPY. 


doctor,  with  great  steadiness ; “ and  yon  may  say  that  an  old  woman 
dressed  your  hurts  — for  if  one  did  not,  one  easily  might  !” 

“Very  extraordinary  language,”  muttered  the  Englishman. 

Here  Captain  Wharton  interfered ; and,  by  explaining  the  mistake 
of  Colonel  Wellmere  to  proceed  from  his  irritated  mind  and  pain  of 
body,  he  in  part  succeeded  in  mollifying  the  insulted  practitioner, 
who  consented  to  look  further  into  the  hurts  of  the  other.  They 
were  chiefly  bruises  from  his  fall,  to  which  Sitgreaves  made  some 
hasty  applications,  and  withdrew. 

The  horse,  haying  taken  their  required  refreshment,  prepared  to 
fall  back  to  their  intended  position,  and  it  became  incumbent  on 
Dunwoodie  to  arrange  the  disposal  of  his  prisoners.  Sitgreaves  he 
determined  to  leave  in  the  cottage  of  Mr.  Wharton,  in  attendance  on 
Captain  Singleton.  Henry  came  to  him  with  a request  that  Colonel 
Wellmere  might  also  be  left  behind,  under  his  parole,  until  the 
troops  marched  higher  into  the  country.  To  this  the  Major  cheer- 
fully assented ; and  as  all  the  rest  of  the  prisoners  were  of  the  vulgar 
herd,  they  were  speedily  collected,  and,  under  the  care  of  a strong 
guard,  ordered  to  the  interior.  The  dragoons  soon  after  marched ; 
and  the  guides,  separating  in  small  parties,  accompanied  by  patroles 
from  the  horse,  spread  themselves  across  the  country,  in  such  a man- 
ner as  to  make  a chain  of  sentinels  from  the  waters  of  the  Sound  to 
those  of  the  Hudson.* 

Dunwoodie  had  lingered  in  front  of  the  cottage,  after  he  paid  his 
parting  compliments,  with  an  unwillingness  to  return,  that  he  thought 
proceeded  from  his  solicitude  for  his  wounded  friends.  The  heart 
which  has  not  become  callous,  soon  sickens  with  the  glory  that  has 
been  purchased  with  a waste  of  human  life.  Peyton  Dunwoodie, 
left  to  himself,  and  no  longer  excited  by  the  visions  which  youthful 
ardour  had  kept  before  him  throughout  the  day,  began  to  feel  there 
were  other  ties  than  those  which  bound  the  soldier  within  the  rigid 

* The  scene  of  this  tale  is  between  these  two  waters,  which  are  but  a few 
miles  from  each  other. 


THE  SPY. 


125 


rules  of  honour.  He  did  not  waver  in  his  duty,  yet  he  felt  how 
strong  was  the  temptation.  His  blood  had  ceased  to  flow  with  the 
impulse  created  by  the  battle.  The  stern  expression  of  his  eye  gra- 
dually gave  place  to  a look  of  softness ; and  his  reflections  on  the 
victory  brought  with  them  no  satisfaction  that  compensated  for  the 
sacrifices  by  which  it  had  been  purchased.  While  turning  his  last 
lingering  gaze  on  the  Locusts,  he  remembered  only  that  it  contained 
all  that  he  most  valued.  The  friend  of  his  youth  was  a prisoner, 
under  circumstances  that  endangered  both  life  and  honour.  The 
gentle  companion  of  his  toils,  who  could  throw  around  the  rude  en- 
joyments of  a soldier  the  graceful  mildness  of  peace,  lay  a bleeding 
victim  to  his  success.  The  image  of  the  maid  who  had  held,  during 
the  day,  a disputed  sovereignty  in  his  bosom,  again  rose  to  his  view 
with  a loveliness  that  banished  her  rival,  glory,  from  his  mind. 

The  last  lagging  trooper  of  the  corps  had  already  disappeared  be- 
hind the  northern  hill,  and  the  Major  unwillingly  turned  his  horse 
in  the  same  direction.  Frances,  impelled  by  a restless  inquietude, 
now  timidly  ventured  on  the  piazza  of  the  cottage.  The  day  had 
been  mild  and  clear,  and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly  in  a cloudless 
sky.  The  tumult,  which  so  lately  disturbed  the  valley,  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  stillness  of  death,  and  the  fair  scene  before  her  looked 
as  if  it  had  never  been  marred  by  the  passions  of  men.  One  solitary 
cloud,  the  collected  smoke  of  the  contest,  hung  over  the  field ; and 
this  was  gradually  dispersing,  leaving  no  vestige  of  the  conflict  above 
the  peaceful  graves  of  its  victims.  All  the  conflicting  feelings,  all 
the  tumultuous  circumstances  of  the  eventful  day,  appeared  like  the 
deceptions  of  a troubled  vision.  Frances  turned,  and  caught  a glimpse 
of  the  retreating  figure  of  him  who  had  been  so  conspicuous  an  actoi 
in  the  scene,  and  the  illusion  vanished.  She  recognised  her  lover, 
and,  with  the  truth,  came  other  recollections  that  drove  her  to  the 
room,  with  a heart  as  sad  as  that  which  Dunwoodie  himself  born 
from  the  valley 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A.  moment  gazed  adown  the  dale, 

A moment  snuff’d  the  tainted  gale, 

A moment  listen’d  to  the  cry, 

That  thicken’d  as  the  chase  drew  nigh 
Then,  as  the  headmost  foe  appear’d, 

With  one  brave  bound  the  copse  he  clear’d, 

And,  stretching  forward  free  and  far, 

Sought  the  wild  heaths  of  Uam-Var. 

Walter  Scott. 

The  party  under  Captain  Lawton  had  watched  the  retiring  foe  at 
his  boats  with  the  most  unremitting  vigilance,  without  finding  any 
fit  opening  for  a charge.  The  experienced  successor  of  Colonel 
Wellmere  knew  too  well  the  power  of  his  enemy  to  leave  the  uneven 
surface  of  the  heights,  until  compelled  to  descend  to  the  level  of  the 
water.  Before  he  attempted  this  hazardous  movement,  he  threw 
his  men  into  a compact  square,  with  its  outer  edges  bristling  with 
bayonets.  In  this  position,  the  impatient  trooper  well  understood 
that  brave  men  could  never  be  assailed  by  cavalry  with  success,  and 
he  was  reluctantly  obliged  to  hover  near  them,  without  seeing  any 
opportunity  of  stopping  their  slow  but  steady  march  to  the  beach. 
A small  schooner,  which  had  been  their  convoy  from  the  city,  lay 
with  her  guns  bearing  on  the  place  of  embarkation.  Against  this 
combination  of  force  and  discipline,  Lawton  had  sufficient  prudence 
to  see  it  would  be  folly  to  contend,  and  the  English  were  suffered  to 
embark  without  molestation.  The  dragoons  lingered  on  the  shore 
till  the  last  moment,  and  then  they  reluctantly  commenced  their  own 
retreat  back  to  the  main  body  of  the  corps. 


THE  SPY. 


127 


The  gathering  mists  of  the  evening  had  begun  to  darken  the  val- 
ley, as  the  detachment  of  Lawton  made  its  re-appearance,  at  its 
southern  extremity.  The  march  of  the  troops  was  slow,  and  their 
line  extended,  for  the  benefit  of  ease.  In  the  front  rode  the  Captain, 
side  by  side  with  his  senior  subaltern,  apparently  engaged  in  close 
conference,  while  the  rear  was  brought  up  by  a young  cornet,  hum- 
ming an  air,  and  thinking  of  the  sweets  of  a straw  bed  after  the 
fatigues  of  a hard  day’s  duty. 

“ Then  it  struck  you  too  ?”  said  the  Captain.  “ The  instant  I 
placed  my  eyes  on  her,  I remembered  the  face ; it  is  one  not  easily 
forgotten.  By  my  faith,  Tom,  the  girl  does  no  discredit  to  the  Ma- 
jor’s taste.” 

“ She  would  do  honour  to  the  corps,”  replied  the  Lieutenant, 
with  some  warmth ; “ those  blue  eyes  might  easily  win  a man  to 
gentler  employments  than  this  trade  of  ours.  In  sober  truth,  I can 
easily  imagine,  such  a girl  might  tempt  even  me  to  quit  the  broad- 
sword and  saddle,  for  a darning-needle  and  pillion.” 

“ Mutiny,  sir,  mutiny,”  cried  the  other,  laughing;  “what,  you, 
Tom  Mason,  dare  to  rival  the  gay,  admired,  and  withal  rich,  Major 
Dunwoodie  in  his  love  ! You,  a lieutenant  of  cavalry,  with  but  one 
horse,  and  he  none  of  the  best ! whose  captain  is  as  tough  as  a pep- 
erage  log,  and  has  as  many  lives  as  a cat.” 

“ Faith,”  said  the  subaltern,  smiling  m his  turn,  “ the  log  may 
yet  be  split,  and  Grimalkin  lose  his  lives,  if  you  often  charge  as 
madly  as  you  did  this  morning.  What  think  you  of  many  raps  from 
such  a beetle  as  laid  you  on  your  back  to-day  ?” 

“Ah!  don’t  mention  it,  my  good  Tom;  the  thought  makes  my 
head  ache,”  replied  the  other,  shrugging  up  his  shoulders ; “ it  is 
what  I call  forestalling  night.” 

“ The  night  of  death  ?” 

“ No,  sir,  the  night  that  follows  day.  I saw  myriads  of  stars, 
things  which  should  hide  their  faces  in  the  presence  of  the  lordly 


128 


THE  SPY. 


sun.  I do  think  nothing  hut  this  thick  cap  saved  me  for  your  com- 
fort a little  longer,  maugre  the  cat’s  lives.” 

“ I have  much  reason  to  be  obliged  to  the  cap,”  said  Mason,  drily  : 
“ that  or  the  skull  must  have  had  a reasonable  portion  of  thickness, 
I admit.” 

“ Come,  come,  Tom,  you  are  a licensed  joker,  so  I T1  not  feign 
anger  with  you,”  returned  the  Captain,  good-humouredly;  “but 
Singleton’s  lieutenant,  I am  fearful,  will  fare  better  than  yourself 
for  this  day’s  service.” 

“ I believe  both  of  us  will  be  spared  the  pain  of  receiving  promo- 
tion purchased  by  the  death  of  a comrade  and  friend,”  observed 
Mason,  kindly;  “it  was  reported  that  Sitgreaves  said  he  would 
live.” 

“ From  my  soul  I hope  so,”  exclaimed  Lawton  : “ for  a beardless 
face,  that  boy  carries  the  stoutest  heart  I have  ever  met  with.  It 
surprises  me,  however,  that,  as  we  both  fell  at  the  same  instant,  the 
men  behaved  so  well.” 

“ For  the  compliment,  I might  thank  you,”  cried  the  Lieutenant 
with  a laugh;  “but  modesty  forbids;  I did  my  best  to  stop  them, 
but  without  success.” 

“ Stop  them  !”  roared  the  Captain ; “ would  you  stop  men  in  the 
middle  of  a charge?” 

“I  thought  they  were  going  the  wrong  way,”  answered  the 
subaltern. 

“ Ah ! our  fall  drove  them  to  the  right  about  ?” 

“It  was  either  your  fall,  or  apprehensions  of  their  own;  until 
the  Major  rallied  us,  we  were  in  admirable  disorder.” 

“ Dunwoodie  ! the  Major  was  on  the  crupper  of  the  Dutchman.” 

“ Ah  ! but  he  managed  to  get  off  the  crupper  of  the  Dutchman. 
He  came  in,  at  half-speed,  with  the  other  two  troops,  and  riding 
between  us  and  the  enemy,  with  that  imperative  way  he  has  when 
roused,  brought  us  in  line  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  Then  it  was,” 
added  the  Lieutenant,  with  animation,  “ that  we  sent  J ohn  Bull  to 


THE  SPY. 


129 


the  bushes.  Oh  ! it  was  a sweet  charge  — heads  and  tails,  until  we 
were  upon  them.” 

“ The  devil ! What  a sight  I missed  !” 

“You  slept  through  it  all.” 

“ Yes,”  returned  the  other,  with  a sigh ; “ it  was  all  lost  to  me 
and  poor  George  Singleton.  But,  Tom,  what  will  George’s  sister 
say  to  this  fair-haired  maiden,  in  yonder  white  building  ?” 

“ Hang  b grself  in  her  garters,”  said  the  subaltern.  “ 1 owe  a 
proper  respect  to  my  superiors,  but  two  such  angels  are  more  than 
justly  falls  to  the  share  of  one  man,  unless  he  be  a Turk  or 
a Hindoo.” 

“Yes,  yes,”  said  the  Captain,  quickly,  “the  Major  is  ever 
preaching  morality  to  the  youngsters,  but  he  is  a sly  fellow  in  the 
main.  Do  you  observe  how  fond  he  is  of  the  cross  roads  above  this 
valley?  Now,  if  I were  to  halt  the  troops  twice  in  the  same  place, 
you  would  all  swear  there  was  a petticoat  in  the  wind.” 

“You  are  well  known  to  the  corps.” 

“Well,  Tom,  a slanderous  propensity  is  incurable  — but,” 
stretching  forward  his  body  in  the  direction  he  was  gazing,  as  if  to 
aid  him  in  distinguishing  objects  through  the  darkness,  “what 
animal  is  moving  through  the  field  on  our  right  ?” 

“’Tis  a man,”  said  Mason,  looking  intently  at  the  suspicious 
object. 

“By  his  hump  ’tis  a dromedary!”  added  the  Captain,  eyeing  it 
keenly.  Wheeling  his  horse  suddenly  from  the  highway,  he 
exclaimed  — “ Harvey  Birch  ! — take  him,  dead  or  alive  !” 

Mason  and  a few  of  the  leading  dragoons  only  understood  the 
sudden  cry,  but  it  was  heard  throughout  the  line.  A dozen  of  the 
men,  with  the  Lieutenant  at  their  head,  followed  the  impetuous 
Lawton,  and  their  speed  threatened  the  pursued  with  a sudden  ter- 
mination of  the  race. 

Birch  prudently  kept  his  position  on  the  rock,  where  he  had  been 
seen  by  the  passing  glance  of  Henry  Wharton,  until  evening  had 

6* 


130 


THE  SPY. 


begun  to  shroud  the  surrounding  objects  in  darkness.  From  this 
height  he  had  seen  all  the  events  of  the  day  as  they  occurred.  He 
had  watched,  with  a beating  heart,  the  departure  of  the  troops  under 
Dunwoodie,  and  with  difficulty  had  curbed  his  impatience  until  the 
obscurity  of  night  should  render  his  moving  free  from  danger.  He 
had  not,  however,  completed  a fourth  of  his  way  to  his  own  resi- 
dence, when  his  quick  ear  distinguished  the  tread  of  the  approaching 
horse.  Trusting  to  the  increasing  darkness,  he  determined  to  per- 
severe. By  crouching  and  moving  quickly  along  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  he  hoped  yet  to  escape  unseen.  Captain  Lawton  was  too 
much  engrossed  with  the  foregoing  conversation  to  suffer  his  eyes  to 
indulge  in  their  usual  wandering ; and  the  pedler,  perceiving  by  the 
voices  that  the  enemy  he  most  feared  had  passed,  yielded  to  his 
impatience,  and  stood  erect,  in  order  to  make  greater  progress. 
The  moment  his  body  arose  above  the  shadow  of  the  ground,  it  was 
seen  and  the  chase  commenced.  For  a single  instant,  Birch  was 
helpless,  his  blood  curdling  in  his  veins  at  the  imminence  of  the 
danger,  and  his  legs  refusing  their  natural  and  necessary  office. 
But  it  was  only  for  a moment.  Casting  his  pack  where  he  stood, 
and  instinctively  tightening  the  belt  he  wore,  the  pedler  betook 
himself  to  flight.  He  knew  that  by  bringing  himself  in  a line  with 
his  pursuers  and  the  wood,  his  form  would  be  lost  to  sight.  This 
he  soon  effected,  and  he  was  straining  every  nerve  to  gain  the  wood 
itself,  when  several  horsemen  rode  by  him  but  a short  distance  on 
his  left,  and  cut  him  off  from  this  place  of  refuge.  The  pedler 
threw  himself  on  the  ground  as  they  came  near  him,  and  was  passed 
unseen.  But  delay,  now,  became  too  dangerous  for  him  to  remain 
in  that  position.  He  accordingly  arose,  and  still  keeping  in  the 
shadow  of  the  wood,  along  the  skirts  of  which  he  heard  voices 
crying  to  each  other  to  be  watchful,  he  ran  with  incredible  speed  in 
a parallel  line,  but  in  an  opposite  direction,  to  the  march  of  the 
dragoons. 

The  confusion  of  the  chase  had  been  heard  by  the  whole  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


131 


men,  though  none  distinctly  understood  the  order  of  Lawton  hut 
those  who  followed.  The  remainder  were  lost  in  doubt  as  to  the 
duty  that  was  required  of  them;  and  the  aforesaid  cornet  was 
making  eager  enquiries  of  the  trooper  near  him  on  the  subject,  when 
a man,  at  a short  distance  in  his  rear,  crossed  the  road  at  a single 
bound.  At  the  same  instant,  the  stentorian  voice  of  LawTon  rang 
through  the  valley,  shouting  — 

u Harvey  Birch  — take  him,  dead  or  alive  !” 

Fifty  pistols  lighted  the  scene,  and  the  bullets  whistled  in  every 
direction  round  the  head  of  the  devoted  pedler.  A feeling  of 
despair  seized  his  heart,  and  in  the  bitterness  of  that  moment 
he  exclaimed  — 

“ Hunted  like  a beast  of  the  forest !” 

He  felt  life  and  its  accompaniments  to  be  a burden,  and  was  about 
to  yield  himself  to  his  enemies.  Nature,  however,  prevailed.  If 
taken,  there  was  great  reason  to  apprehend  that  he  would  not  be 
honoured  with  the  forms  of  a trial,  but  that  most  probably  the  morn- 
ing sun  would  witness  his  ignominious  execution ; for  he  had  already 
been  condemned  to  death,  and  had  only  escaped  that  fate  by  strata- 
gem. These  considerations,  with  the  approaching  footsteps  of  his 
pursuers,  roused  him  to  new  exertions.  He  again  fled  before  them. 
A fragment  of  a wall,  that  had  withstood  the  ravages  made  by  war 
in  the  adjoining  fences  of  wood,  fortunately  crossed  his  path.  He 
hardly  had  time  to  throw  his  exhausted  limbs  over  this  barrier, 
before  twenty  of  his  enemies  reached  its  opposite  side.  Their  horses 
refused  to  take  the  leap  in  the  dark,  and  amid  the  confusion  of  the 
rearing  chargers,  and  the  execrations  of  their  riders,  Birch  was 
enabled  to  gain  a sight  of  the  base  of  the  hill,  on  whose  summit 
was  a place  of  perfect  security.  The  heart  of  the  pedler  now  beat 
high  with  hope,  when  the  voice  of  Captain  Lawton  again  rang  in  his 
ears,  shouting  to  his  men  to  make  room.  The  order  was  obeyed, 
and  the  fearless  trooper  rode  at  the  wall  at  the  top  of  his  horse’s 
speed,  plunged  the  rowels  in  his  charger,  and  flew  over  the  obstacle 


132 


THE  SPY. 


in  safety.  The  triumphant  hurrahs  of  the  men,  and  the  thundering 
tread  of  the  horse,  too  plainly  assured  the  pedler  of  the  emergency 
of  his  danger.  He  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  his  fate  no  longer 
seemed  doubtful. 

“ Stop,  or  die  !”  was  uttered  above  his  head,  and  in  fearful 
proximity  to  his  ears. 

Harvey  stole  a glance  over  his  shoulder,  and  saw,  within  a bound 
of  him,  the  man  he  most  dreaded.  By  the  light  of  the  stars  he 
beheld  the  uplifted  arm  and  the  threatening  sabre.  Fear,  exhaus- 
tion, and  despair,  seized  his  heart,  and  the  intended  victim  fell  at 
the  feet  of  the  dragoon.  The  horse  of  Lawton  struck  the  prostrate 
pedler,  and  both  steed  and  rider  came  violently  to  the  earth. 

As  quick  as  thought,  Birch  was  on  his  feet  again,  writh  the  sword 
of  the  discomfited  dragoon  in  his  hand.  Vengeance  seems  but  too 
natural  to  human  passions.  There  are  few  who  have  not  felt  the 
seductive  pleasure  of  making  our  injuries  recoil  on  their  authors; 
and  yet  there  are  some  who  know  how  much  sweeter  it  is  to  return 
good  for  evil. 

All  the  wrongs  of  the  pedler  shone  on  his  brain  with  a dazzling 
brightness.  For  a moment  the  demon  within  him  prevailed,  and 
Birch  brandished  the  powerful  weapon  in  the  air;  in  the  next,  it 
fell  harmless  on  the  reviving  but  helpless  trooper.  The  pedler  va- 
nished up  the  side  of  the  friendly  rock. 

u Help  Captain  Lawton,  there  I”  cried  Mason,  as  he  rode  up,  fol- 
lowed by  a dozen  of  his  men ; “ and  some  of  you  dismount  with  me, 
and  search  these  rocks ; the  villain  lies  here  concealed.” 

•“  Hold !”  roared  the  discomfited  Captain,  raising  himself  with 
difficulty  on  his  feet ; “if  one  of  you  dismount,  he  dies.  Tom,  my 
good  fellow,  you  will  help  me  to  straddle  Boanoke  again.” 

The  astonished  subaltern  complied  in  silence,  while  the  wondering 
dragoons  remained  as  fixed  in  their  saddles,  as  if  they  composed  part 
of  the  animals  they  rode. 

“You  are  much  hurt,  I fear,”  said  ^lason,  with  something  of 


THE  SPY. 


133 


condolence  in  his  manner,  as  they  re-entered  the  highway,  and 
biting  off  the  end  of  a segar  for  the  want  of  a better  quality  of 
tobacco. 

“ Something  so,  I do  believe,”  replied  the  Captain,  catching  his 
breath,  and  speaking  with  difficulty ; “ I wish  our  bone-setter  was 
at  hand,  to  examine  into  the  state  of  my  ribs.” 

u Sitgreaves  is  left  in  attendance  on  Captain  Singleton,  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Wharton.” 

“ Then  there  I halt  for  the  night,  Tom.  These  rude  times  must 
abridge  ceremony ; besides,  you  may  remember  the  old  gentleman 
professed  a.  kinsman's  regard  for  the  corps.  I can  never  think  of 
passing  so  good  a friend  without  a halt.” 

“ And  I will  lead  the  troop  to  the  Four  Corners;  if  we  all  halt 
there,  we  shall  breed  a famine  in  the  land.” 

aA  condition  I never  desire  to  be  placed  in.  The  idea  of  that 
graceful  spinster's  cakes  is  no  bad  solace  for  twenty-four  hours  in 
the  hospital.” 

(i  Oh  ! you  won't  die  if  you  can  think  of  eating,”  said  Mason,  with 
a laugh. 

“I  should  surely  die  if  I could  not,”  observed  the  Captain, 
gravely. 

u Captain  Lawton,”  said  the  orderly  of  his  troop,  riding  to  the 
side  of  his  commanding  officer,  u we  are  now  passing  the  house  of 
the  pedler  spy ; is  it  your  pleasure  that  we  burn  it  ?” 

“ No !”  roared  the  Captain,  in  a voice  that  startled  the  disap- 
pointed serjeant ; u are  you  an  incendiary  ? would  you  burn  a house 
in  cold  blood  ? let  but  a spark  approach,  and  the  hand  that  carries 
it  will  never  light  another.” 

“ Zounds !”  muttered  the  sleepy  cornet  in  the  rear,  as  he  was 
nodding  on  his  horse,  u there  is  life  in  the  Captain,  notwithstanding 
his  tumble.” 

Lawton  and  Mason  rode  on  in  silence,  the  latter  ruminating  on 


134 


T H k SPY. 


the  wonderful  change  produced  in  his  commander  by  his  fall,  when 
they  arrived  opposite  to  the  gate  before  the  residence  of  Mr.  Whar- 
ton. The  troop  continued  its  march;  but  the  Captain  and  his  Lieu- 
tenant dismounted,  and,  followed  by  the  servant  of  the  former,  they 
proceeded  slowly  to  the  door  of  the  cottage. 

Colonel  Wellmere  had  already  sought  a retreat  in  his  own  room ; 
Mr.  Wharton  and  his  son  were  closeted  by  themselves;  and  the 
ladies  were  administering  the  refreshments  of  the  tea-table  to  the 
surgeon  of  the  dragoons,  who  had  seen  one  of  his  patients  in  his  bed, 
and  the  other  happily  enjoying  the  comforts  of  a sweet  sleep.  A 
few  natural  enquiries  from  Miss  Peyton  had  opened  the  soul  of  the 
doctor,  who  knew  every  individual  of  her  extensive  family  connec- 
tion in  Virginia,  and  who  even  thought  it  possible  that  he  had  seen 
the  lady  herself.  The  amiable  spinster  smiled  as  she  felt  it  to  be 
improbable  that  she  should  ever  have  met  her  new  acquaintance 
before,  and  not  remember  his  singularities.  It,  however,  greatly 
relieved  the  embarrassment  of  their  situation,  and  something  like  a 
discourse  was  maintained  between  them ; the  nieces  were  only  listen- 
ers, nor  could  the  aunt  be  said  to  be  much  more. 

“ As  I was  observing,  Miss  Peyton,  it  was  merely  the  noxious 
vapours  of  the  low  lands  that  rendered  the  plantation  of  your  brother 
an  unfit  residence  for  man ; but  quadrupeds  were  — ■” 

“ Bless  me,  what ’s  that  ?”  said  Miss  Peyton,  turning  pale  at  the 
report  of  the  pistols  fired  at  Birch. 

“ It  sounds  prodigiously  like  the  concussion  on  the  atmosphere 
made  by  the  explosion  of  fire-arms,”  said  the  surgeon,  sipping  his 
tea  with  great  indifference.  “ I should  imagine  it  to  be  the  troop 
of  Captain  Lawton  returning,  did  I not  know  the  Captain  never  uses 
the  pistol,  and  that  he  dreadfully  abuses  the  sabre.” 

u Merciful  providence !”  exclaimed  the  agitated  maiden,  u he 
would  not  injure  one  with  it  certainly.” 

“ Injure  !”  repeated  the  other  quickly : u it  is  certain  death,  ma- 


THE  SPY. 


135 


dam;  the  most  random  blows  imaginable;  all  that  I can  say  to  him 
will  have  no  effect.” 

“ But  Captain  Lawton  is  the  officer  we  saw  this  morning,  and  is 
surely  your  friend,”  said  Frances,  hastily,  observing  her  aunt  to  be 
seriously  alarmed. 

“ I find  no  fault  with  his  want  of  friendship ; the  man  is  well 
enough  if  he  would  learn  to  cut  scientifically.  All  trades,  madam, 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  live ; but  what  is  to  become  of  a surgeon,  if 
his  patients  are  dead  before  he  sees  them !” 

The  doctor  continued  haranguing  on  the  probability  and  improba- 
bility of  its  being  the  returning  troop,  until  a loud  knock  at  the  door 
gave  new  alarm  to  the  ladies.  Instinctively  laying  his  hand  on  a 
small  saw,  that  had  been  his  companion  for  the  whole  day,  in  the 
vain  expectation  of  an  amputation,  the  surgeon,  coolly  assuring  the 
ladies  that  he  would  stand  between  them  and  danger,  proceeded  in 
person  to  answer  to  the  summons. 

u Captain  Lawton !”  exclaimed  the  surgeon,  as  he  beheld  the 
trooper  leaning  on  the  arm  of  his  subaltern,  and  with  difficulty 
crossing  the  threshold. 

u Ah ! my  dear  bone-setter,  is  it  you  ? You  are  here  very 
fortunately  to  inspect  my  carcass;  but  do  lay  aside  that  rascally 
saw !” 

A few  words  from  Mason  explained  the  nature  and  manner  of  his 
Captain's  hurts,  and  Miss  Peyton  cheerfully  accorded  the  required 
accommodations.  While  the  room  intended  for  the  trooper  was  get- 
ting ready,  and  the  doctor  was  giving  certain  portentous  orders,  the 
Captain  was  invited  to  rest  himself  in  the  parlour.  On  the  table 
was  a dish  of  more  substantial  food  than  ordinarily  adorned  the  after- 
noon's repast,  and  it  soon  caught  the  attention  of  the  dragoons.  Miss 
Peyton,  recollecting  that  they  had  probably  made  their  only  meal 
that  day  at  her  own  table,  kindly  invited  them  to  close  it  with  an- 
other. The  offer  required  no  pressing,  and  in  a few  minutes  the 


136 


THE  SPY. 


two  were  comfortably  seated,  and  engaged  in  an  employment  that 
was  only  interrupted  by  an  occasional  wry  face  from  the  Captain, 
who  moved  his  body  in  evident  pain.  These  interruptions,  how- 
ever, interfered  but  little  with  the  principal  business  in  hand ; and 
the  Captain  had  got  happily  through  with  this  important  duty,  be- 
fore the  surgeon  returned  to  announce  all  things  ready  for  his  ac 
commodation,  in  the  room  above  stairs. 

u Eating !”  cried  the  astonished  physician ; “ Captain  Lawton,  do 
you  wish  to  die?” 

u I have  no  particular  ambition  that  way,”  said  the  trooper,  ris- 
ing, and  bowing  good  night  to  the  ladies,  u and,  therefore,  have  been 
providing  the  materials  necessary  to  preserve  life.” 

The  surgeon  muttered  his  dissatisfaction,  while  he  followed  Mason 
and  the  Captain  from  the  apartment. 

Every  house  in  America  had,  at  that  day,  what  was  emphatically 
called  its  best  room,  and  this  had  been  allotted,  by  the  unseen  influ- 
ence of  Sarah,  to  Colonel  Wellmere.  The  down  counterpane,  which 
a clear  frosty  night  would  render  extremely  grateful  over  bruised 
limbs,  decked  the  English  officer’s  bed.  A massive  silver  tankard, 
richly  embossed  with  the  W harton  arms,  held  the  beverage  he  was 
to  drink  during  the  night;  while  beautiful  vessels  of  china  per- 
formed the  same  office  for  the  two  American  captains.  Sarah  was 
certainly  unconscious  of  the  silent  preference  she  had  been  giving  to 
the  English  officer ; and  it  is  equally  certain,  that  but  for  his  hurts, 
bed,  tankard,  and  every  thing  but  the  beverage,  would  have  been 
matters  of  indifference  to  Captain  Lawton,  half  of  whose  nights  were 
spent  in  his  clothes,  and  not  a few  of  them  in  the  saddle.  After 
taking  possession,  however,  of  a small  but  very  comfortable  room, 
Doctor  Sitgreaves  proceeded  to  enquire  into  the  state  of  his  injuries. 
He  had  begun  to  pass  his  hand  over  the  body  of  his  patient,  when 
the  latter  cried  impatiently — 

“ Sitgreaves,  do  me  the  favour  to  lay  that  rascally  saw  aside,  or 


THE  SPY. 


137 

I shall  have  recourse  to  m y sabre  in  self-defence ; the  sight  of  it 
makes  my  blood  cold.” 

“ Captain  Lawton,  for  a man  who  has  so  often  exposed  life  and 
limb,  you  are  unaccountably  afraid  of  a very  useful  instrument.” 

“ Heaven  keep  me  from  its  use,”  said  the  trooper,  with  a 
shrug. 

“ You  would  not  despise  the  lights  of  science,  nor  refuse  surgical 
aid,  because  this  saw  might  be  necessary?” 

“ I would.” 

“ You  would !” 

“ Yes;  you  shall  never  joint  me  like  a quarter  of  beef,  while  I 
have  life  to  defend  myself,”  cried  the  resolute  dragoon.  “ But  I 
grow  sleepy;  are  any  of  my  ribs  broken  ? 

“No” 

“Any  of  my  bones?” 

“No.” 

“ Tom,  I T1  thank  you  for  that  pitcher.”  As  he  ended  his  draught, 
he  very  deliberately  turned  his  back  on  his  companions,  and  good- 
naturedly  cried  — “ Good-night,  Mason ; good-night,  Galen.” 

Captain  Lawton  entertained  a profound  respect  for  the  surgical 
abilities  of  his  comrade,  but  he  was  very  sceptical  on  the  subject  of 
administering  internally  for  the  ailings  of  the  human  frame.  With 
a full  stomach,  a stout  heart,  and  a clear  conscience,  he  often  main- 
tained that  a man  might  bid  defiance  to  the  world  and  its  vicissitudes. 
Nature  provided  him  with  the  second,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  he  strove 
manfully  himself  to  keep  up  the  other  two  requisites  in  his  creed. 
It  was  a favourite  maxim  with  him,  that  the  last  thing  death  assailed 
was  the  eyes,  and  next  to  the  last,  the  jaws.  This  he  interpreted  to 
be  a clear  expression  of  the  intention  of  nature,  that  every  man  might 
regulate,  by  his  own  volition,  whatever  was  to  be  admitted  into  the 
sanctuary  of  his  mouth ; consequently,  if  the  guest  proved  unpalata- 
ble, he  had  no  one  to  blame  but-  himself.  The  surgeon,  who  was 
well  acquainted  with  these  views  of  his  patient,  beheld  him,  as  he 


138 


THE  SPY, 


cavalierly  turned  his  back  on  Mason  and  himself,  with  a commise- 
rating contempt,  replaced  in  their  leathern  repository  the  phials  he 
had  exhibited,  with  a species  of  care  that  was  allied  to  veneration, 
gave  the  saw,  as  he  concluded,  a whirl  of  triumph,  and  departed, 
without  condescending  to  notice  the  compliment  of  the  trooper. 
Mason,  finding,  by  the  breathing  of  the  Captain,  that  his  own  good- 
night would  be  unheard,  hastened  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  ladies — 
after  which  he  mounted,  and  followed  the  troop  at  the  top  of  his 
horse’s  speed. 


CHAPTER  X. 


On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies, 

Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires 
E’en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries, 

E’en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

Gray 

The  possessions  of  Mr.  Wharton  extended  to  some  distance  on  each 
side  of  the  house  in  which  he  dwelt,  and  most  of  his  land  was  unoc- 
cupied. A few  scattered  dwellings  were  to  be  seen  in  different  parts 
of  his  domains,  but  they  were  fast  falling  to  decay,  and  were  unten- 
anted. The  proximity  of  the  country  to  the  contending  armies  had 
nearly  banished  the  pursuits  of  agriculture  from  the  land.  It  was 
useless  for  the  husbandman  to  devote  his  time,  and  the  labour  of  his 
hands,  to  obtain  overflowing  garners,  that  the  first  foraging  party 
would  empty.  None  tilled  the  earth  with  any  other  view  than  to 
provide  the  scanty  means  of  subsistence,  except  those  who  were 
placed  so  near  to  one  of  the  adverse  parties  as  to  be  safe  from  the 
inroads  of  the  light  troops  of  the  other.  To  these  the  war  offered  a 
golden  harvest,  more  especially  to  such  as  enjoyed  the  benefits  of  an 
access  to  the  royal  army.  Mr.  Wharton  did  not  require  the  use  of 
his  lands  for  the  purposes  of  subsistence ; and  he  willingly  adopted 
the  guarded  practice  of  the  day,  limiting  his  attention  to  such  articles 
as  were  soon  to  be  consumed  within  his  own  walls,  or  could  be  easily 
secreted  from  the  prying  eyes  of  the  foragers.  In  consequence,  the 
ground  on  which  the  action  was  fought  had  not  a single  inhabited 
building,  besides  the  one  belonging  to  the  father  of  Harvey  Birch. 


140 


THE  SPY. 


This  house  stood  between  the  place  where  the  cavalry  had  met,  and 
that  where  the  charge  had  been  made  on  the  party  of  Wellmere. 

To  Katy  Haynes  it  had  been  a day  fruitful  of  incidc  nts.  The 
prudent  housekeeper  had  kept  her  political  feelings  in  a state  of  rigid 
neutrality;  her  own  friends  had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  country, 
but  the  maiden  herself  never  lost  sight  of  that  important  moment, 
when,  like  females  of  more  illustrious  hopes,  she  might  be  required 
to  sacrifice  her  love  of  country  on  the  altar  of  domestic  harmony. 
And  yet,  notwithstanding  all  her  sagacity,  there  were  moments  when 
the  good  woman  had  grievous  doubts  into  which  scale  she  ought  to 
throw  the  weight  of  her  eloquence,  in  order  to  be  certain  of  support- 
ing the  cause  favoured  by  the  pedler.  There  was  so  much  that  was 
equivocal  in  his  movements  and  manner,  that  often,  when,  in  the 
privacy  of  their  household,  she  was  about  to  utter  a philippic  on 
Washington  and  his  followers,  discretion  sealed  her  mouth,  and  dis- 
trust beset  her  mind.  In  short,  the  whole  conduct  of  the  mysterious 
being  she  studied  was  of  a character  to  distract  the  opinions  of  one 
who  took  a more  enlarged  view  of  men  and  life  than  came  within  the 
competency  of  his  housekeeper. 

The  battle  of  the  Plains  had  taught  the  cautious  Washington  the 
advantages  his  enemy  possessed  in  organisation,  arms,  and  discipline. 
These  were  difficulties  to  be  mastered  by  his  own  vigilance  and  care. 
Drawing  off  his  troops  to  the  heights,  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
county,  he  had  bidden  defiance  to  the  attacks  of  the  royal  army,  and 
Sir  William  Howe  fell  back  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  barren  conquest 
— a deserted  city.  Never  afterwards  did  the  opposing  armies  make 
the  trial  of  strength  within  the  limits  of  West-Chester ; yet  hardly  a 
day  passed,  that  the  partisans  did  not  make  their  inroads ; or  a sun 
rise,  that  the  inhabitants  were  spared  the  relation  of  excesses  which 
the  preceding  darkness  had  served  to  conceal.  Most  of  the  move- 
ments of  the  pedler  were  made  at  the  hours  which  others  allotted  to 
repose.  The  evening  sun  would  frequently  leave  him  at  one  extre- 
mity of  the  county,  and  the  morning  find  him  at  the  other.  His 


THE  SPY. 


141 


pack  was  his  never-failing  companion;  and  then * were  those  who 
closely  studied  him,  in  his  moments  of  traffic,  and  thought  his  only 
purpose  was  the  accumulation  of  gold.  He  woidd  be  often  seen  near 
the  Highlands,  with  a body  bending  under  its  load ; and  again  near 
the  Harlaem  river,  travelling  with  lighter  steps,  with  his  face  towards 
the  setting  sun.  But  these  glances  at  him  were  uncertain  and  fleet- 
ing. The  intermediate  time  no  eye  could  penetrate.  For  months 
he  disappeared,  and  no  traces  of  his  course  were  ever  known. 

Strong  parties  held  the  heights  of  Harlaem,  and  the  northern  end 
of  Manhattan  Island  was  bristling  with  the  bayonets  of  the  English 
sentinels,  yet  the  pedler  glided  among  them  unnoticed  and  uninjured. 
His  approaches  to  the  American  lines  were  also  frequent ; but  gene- 
rally so  conducted  as  to  baffle  pursuit.  Many  a sentinel,  placed  in 
the  gorges  of  the  mountains,  spoke  of  a strange  figure  that  had  been 
seen  gliding  by  them  in  the  mists  of  the  evening.  These  stories 
reached  the  ears  of  the  officers,  and,  as  we  have  related,  in  two  in- 
stances the  trader  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans.  The 
first  time  he  had  escaped  from  Lawton,  shortly  after  his  arrest;  but 
the  second  he  was  condemned  to  die.  On  the  morning  of  his  in- 
tended execution,  the  cage  was  opened,  but  the  bird  had  flown.  This 
extraordinary  escape  had  been  made  from  the  custody  of  a favourite 
officer  of  Washington,  and  sentinels  who  had  been  thought  worthy 
to  guard  the  person  of  the  Commander-in-chief.  Bribery  and  trea- 
son could  not  be  imputed  to  men  sc  well  esteemed,  and  the  opinion 
gained  ground  among  the  common  soldiery,  that  the  pedler  had  deal- 
ings with  the  dark  one.  Katy,  however,  always  repelled  this  opinion 
with  indignation;  for  within  the  recesses  of  her  own  bosom,  the 
housekeeper,  in  ruminating  on  the  events,  concluded  that  the  evil 
spirit  did  not  pay  in  gold.  Nor,  continued  the  wary  spinster  in  her 
cogitations,  does  Washington;  paper  and  promises  were  all  that  the 
leader  of  the  American  troops  could  dispense  to  his  servants.  After 
the  alliance  with  France,  when  silver  became  more  abundant  in  the 
country,  although  the  scrutinising  eyes  of  Katy  never  let  any  oppor- 


142 


THE  SPY. 


tunity  of  examining  into  the  deer-skin  purse  pass  unimproved,  she 
was  never  able  to  detect  the  image  of  Louis  intruding  into  the  pre- 
sence of  the  well-known  countenance  of  George  III.  In  short,  the 
secret  hoard  of  Harvey  sufficiently  showed  in  its  contents  that  all  its 
contributions  had  been  received  from  the  British. 

The  house  of  Birch  had  been  watched  at  different  times  by  the 
Americans,  with  a view  to  his  arrest,  but  never  with  success ; the 
reputed  spy  possessing  a secret  means  of  intelligence,  that  invariably 
defeated  their  schemes.  Once,  when  a strong  body  of  the  conti- 
nental army  held  the  Four  Corners  for  a whole  summer,  orders  had 
been  received  from  Washington  himself,  never  to  leave  the  door  of 
Harvey  Birch  unwatched.  The  command  was  rigidly  obeyed,  and 
during  this  long  period  the  pedler  was  unseen ; the  detachment  was 
withdrawn,  and  the  following  night  Birch  re-entered  his  dwelling. 
The  father  of  Harvey  had  been  greatly  molested,  in  consequence  of 
the  suspicious  character  of  the  son.  But,  notwithstanding  the  most 
minute  scrutiny  into  the  conduct  of  the  old  man,  no  fact  could  be 
substantiated  against  him  to  his  injury,  and  his  property  was  too 
small  to  keep  alive  the  zeal  of  patriots  by  profession.  Its  confisca- 
tion and  purchase  would  not  have  rewarded  their  trouble.  Age  and 
sorrow  were  now  about  to  spare  him  further  molestation,  for  the 
lamp  of  life  had  been  drained  of  its  oil.  The  recent  separation  of 
the  father  and  son  had  been  painful,  but  they  had  submitted  in  obe- 
dience to  what  both  thought  a duty.  The  old  man  had  kept  his 
dying  situation  a secret  from  the  neighbourhood,  in  the  hope  that  he 
might  still  have  the  company  of  his  child  in  his  last  moments. 
The  confusion  of  the  day,  and  his  increasing  dread  that  Harvey 
might  be  too  late,  helped  to  hasten  the  event  he  would  fain  arrest 
for  a little  while.  As  night  set  in,  his  illness  increased  to  such  a 
degree,  that  the  dismayed  housekeeper  sent  a truant  boy,  who  had 
shut  up  himself  with  them,  during  the  combat,  to  the  Locusts,  in 
quest  of  a companion  to  cheer  her  solitude.  Caesar,  alone,  could  be 
.spared,  and,  loaded  with  eatables  and  cordials  by  the  kind-hearted 


THE  SPY. 


143 


Miss  Peyton,  th?  black  had  been  despatched  on  this  duty.  The 
dying  man  was  past  the  use  of  medicines,  and  his  chief  anxiety 
seemed  to  centre  in  a meeting  with  his  child. 

The  noise  of  the  chase  had  been  heard  by  the  group  in  the  house, 
but  its  cause  was  not  understood ; and  as  both  the  black  and  Katy 
were  apprised  of  the  detachment  of  American  horse  being  below 
them,  they  supposed  it  to  proceed  from  the  return  of  that  party. 
They  heard  the  dragoons,  as  they  moved  slowly  by  the  building; 
but  in  compliance  with  the  prudent  injunction  of  the  black,  the 
housekeeper  forbore  to  indulge  her  curiosity.  The  old  man  had 
closed  his  eyes,  and  his  attendants  believed  him  to  be  asleep.  The 
house  contained  two  large  rooms,  and  as  many  small  ones.  One  of 
the  former  served  for  kitchen  and  sitting-room ; in  the  other  lay  the 
father  of  Birch ; of  the  latter,  one  was  the  sanctuary  of  the  vestal, 
and  the  other  contained  the  stock  of  provisions.  A huge  chimney 
of  stone  rose  in  the  centre,  serving,  of  itself,  for  a partition  between 
the  larger  rooms;  and  fire-places  of  corresponding  dimensions  were 
in  each  apartment.  A bright  flame  was  burning  in  that  of  the 
common  room,  and  within  the  very  jambs  of  its  monstrous  jaws  sat 
Caesar  and  Katy,  at  the  time  of  which  we  write.  The  African  was 
impressing  his  caution  on  the  housekeeper,  and  commenting  on  the 
general  danger  of  indulging  an  idle  curiosity. 

u Best  nebber  tempt  a Satan,”  said  Caesar,  rolling  up  his  eyes  till 
the  whites  glistened  by  the  glare  of  the  fire ; u I berry  like  heself  to 
lose  an  ear  for  carrying  a little  bit  of  a letter;  dere  much  mischief 
come  of  curiosity.  If  dere  had  nebber  been  a man  curious  to  see 
Africa,  dere  would  be  no  coulour  people  out  of  deir  own  country : 
but  I wish  Harvey  get  back.” 

“ It  is  very  disregardful  in  him  to  be  away  at  such  a time,”  said 
Katy,  imposingly.  u Suppose  now  his  father  wanted  to  make  his 
last  will  in  the  testament,  who  is  there  to  do  so  solemn  and  awful 
an  act  for  him  ? Harvey  is  a very  wasteful  and  a very  disregardful 
man !” 


144 


THE  SPY. 


a perhap  he  make  him  afore  ?” 

“ It  would  not  be  a wonderment  if  he  had,”  returned  the  house- 
keeper; " he  is  whole  days  looking  into  the  Bible.” 

“ Then  he  read  a berry  good  book,”  said  the  black,  solemnly, 
u Miss  Fanny  read  in  him  to  Dinah  now  and  den.” 

u You  are  right,  Caesar.  The  Bible  is  the  best  of  books,  and  one 
that  reads  it  as  often  as  Harvey’s  father  should  have  the  best  of 
reasons  for  so  doing.  This  is  no  more  than  common  sense.” 

She  rose  from  her  seat,  and  stealing  softly  to  a chest  of  drawers 
in  the  room  of  the  sick  man,  she  took  from  it  a large  Bible,  heavily 
bound,  and  secured  with  strong  clasps  of  brass,  with  which  she  re- 
turned to  the  negro.  The  volume  was  eagerly  opened,  and  they 
proceeded  instantly  to  examine  its  pages.  Katy  was  far  from  an 
expert  scholar,  and  to  Caesar  the  characters  were  absolutely  stran- 
gers. For  some  time  the  housekeeper  was  occupied  in  finding  out 
the  word  Matthew,  in  which  she  had  no  sooner  succeeded  than  she 
pointed  out  the  word,  with  great  complacency,  to  the  attentive 
Caesar. 

“ Berry  well,  now  look  him  t’rough,”  said  the  black,  peeping  over 
die  housekeeper’s  shoulder,  as  he  held  a long,  lank  candle  of  yellow 
tallow,  in  such  a manner  as  to  throw  its  feeble  light  on  the  volume. 

“ Yes,  but  I must  begin  with  the  very  beginning  of  the  book,” 
replied  the  other,  turning  the  leaves  carefully  back,  until,  moving 
two  at  once,  she  lighted  upon  a page  covered  with  writing.  u Here,” 
said  the  housekeeper,  shaking  with  the  eagerness  of  expectation, 
“ here  are  the  very  words  themselves ; now  I would  give  the  world 
itself  to  know  whom  he  has  left  the  big  silver  shoe-buckles  to.” 

“ Bead  ’em,”  said  Caesar,  laconically. 

“ And  the  black  walnut  drawers ; for  Harvey  could  never  want 
furniture  of  that  quality,  as  long  as  he  is  a bachelor !” 

“ Why  he  no  want  ’em  as  well  as  he  fader  ?” 
u And  the  six  silver  table-spoons ; Harvey  always  uses  the  iron  !” 
“ P’r’ap  he  say,  widout  so  much  talk,”  returned  the  sententious 


THE  SPY. 


145 


black,  pointing  one  of  his  crooked  and  dingy  fingers  at  the  open 
volume. 

Thus  repeatedly  advised,  and  impelled  by  her  own  curiosity,  Katy 
began  to  read.  Anxious  to  come  to  the  part  which  most  interested 
herself,  she  dipped  at  once  into  the  centre  of  the  subject. 

u Chester  Birch , horn  September  1st , 1755,” — read  the  spinster, 
with  a deliberation  that  did  no  great  honour  to  her  scholarship. 

“ Well,  what  he  gib  him  ?” 

“Abigail  Birch , born  July  12th , 1757,” — continued  the  house- 
keeper, in  the  same  tone. 

“ I t’ink  he  ought  to  gib  her  'e  spoon.” 

“June  1st , 1760.  On  this  awful  day , the  judgment  of  an  of- 
fended God  lighted  on  my  house  — a heavy  groan  from  the  ad- 
joining room  made  the  spinster  instinctively  close  the  volume,  and 
Caesar,  for  a moment,  shook  with  fear.  Neither  possessed  sufficient 
resolution  to  go  and  examine  the  condition  of  the  sufferer,  but  his 
heavy  breathing  continued  as  usual.  Katy  dare  not,  however,  re- 
open the  Bible,  and  carefully  securing  its  clasps,  it  was  laid  on  the 
table  in  silence.  Caesar  took  his  chair  again,  and  after  looking 
timidly  round  the  room,  remarked  — 

“ I t' ought  he  time  war’  come  !” 

“ No,”  said  Katy,  solemnly,  “ he  will  live  till  the  tide  is  out,  or 
the  first  cock  crows  in  the  morning.” 

“ Poor  man  !”  continued  the  black,  nestling  still  farther  into  the 
chimney-corner,  “ I hope  he  lay  quiet  after  he  die.” 

“ ’T would  be  no  astonishment  to  me  if  he  didn't;  for  they  say 
an  unquiet  life  makes  an  uneasy  grave.” 

“ Johnny  Birch  a berry  good  man  in  he  way.  All  mankind  can't 
be  a minister ; for  if  he  do,  who  would  be  a congregation  ?” 

“Ah!  Caesar,  he  is  good  only  who  does  good — can  you  tell  me 
why  honestly  gotten  gold  should  be  hidden  in  the  bowels  of  the 
3arth !” 


7 


THE  STY. 


146 

“ Grach  ! — I t’ink  it  must  be  to  keep  t?e  Skinner  from  findin> 
him ; if  he  know  where  he  be,  why  don’t  he  dig  him  up  ?” 

“ There  may  be  reasons  not  comprehendible  to  you/’  said  Katy, 
moving  her  chair  so  that  her  clothes  covered  the  charmed  stone, 
underneath  which  lay  the  secret  treasures  of  the  pedler,  unable  to 
refrain  speaking  of  that  which  she  would  have  been  very  unwilling 
to  reveal;  “but  a rough  outside  often  holds  a smooth  inside.” 
Caesar  stared  around  the  building,  unable  to  fathom  the  hidden 
meaning  of  his  companion,  when  his  roving  eyes  suddenly  became 
fixed,  and  his  teeth  chattered  with  affright.  The  change  in  the 
countenance  of  the  black  was  instantly  perceived  by  Katy,  and  turn- 
ing her  face,  she  saw  the  pedler  himself,  standing  within  the  door 
of  the  room. 

“ Is  he  alive  ?”  asked  Birch,  tremulously,  and  seemingly  afraid 
to  receive  the  answer. 

“ Surely,”  said  Katy,  rising  hastily,  and  officiously  offering  her 
chair;  “he  must  live  till  day,  or  till  the  tide  is  down.” 

Disregarding  all  but  the  fact  that  his  father  still  lived,  the  pedler 
stole  gently  into  the  room  of  his  dying  parent.  The  tie  which 
bound  the  father  and  son  was  of  no  ordinary  kind.  In  the  wide 
world  they  were  all  to  each  other.  Had  Katy  but  read  a few  lines 
farther  in  the  record,  she  would  have  seen  the  sad  tale  of  their  mis- 
fortunes. At  one  blow  competence  and  kindred  had  been  swept 
from  them,  and  from  that  day  to  the  present  hour,  persecution  and 
distress  had  followed  their  wandering  steps.  Approaching  the  bed- 
side, Harvey  leaned  his  body  forward,  and,  in  a voice  nearly  choked 
by  his  feelings,  he  whispered  near  the  ear  of  the  sick  — 

“ Father,  do  you  know  me  ?” 

The  parent  slowly  opened  his  eyes,  and  a smile  of  satisfaction 
passed  over  liis  pallid  features,  leaving  behind  it  the  impression  of 
death,  more  awful  by  the  contrast.  The  pedler  gave  a restorative 
he  had  brought  with  him  to  the  parched  lips  of  the  sick  man,  and 
for  a few  minutes  new  vigour  seemed  imparted  to  his  frame.  He 


THE  SPY. 


147 


spoke,  but  slowly,  and  with  difficulty.  Curiosity  kept  Katy  silent; 
awe  had  the  same  effect  on  Caesar ; and  Harvey  seemed  hardly  to 
breathe,  as  he  listened  to  the  language  of  the  departing  spirit. 

“ My  son,”  said  the  father  in  a hollow  voice,  u God  is  as  merciful 
as  he  is  just : if  I threw  the  cup  of  salvation  from  my  lips  when  a 
youth,  he  graciously  offers  it  to  me  in  mine  age.  He  has  chastised 
to  purify,  and  I go  to  join  the  spirits  of  our  lost  family.  In  a little 
while,  my  child,  you  will  be  alone.  I know  you  too  well  not 
to  foresee  you  will  be  a pilgrim  through  life.  The  bruised  reed  may 
endure,  but  it  will  never  rise.  You  have  that  within  you,  Harvey, 
that  will  guide  you  aright ; persevere,  as  you  have  begun,  for  the 
duties  of  life  are  never  to  be  neglected  — and”  — A noise  in  the 
adjoining  room  interrupted  the  dying  man,  and  the  impatient  pedler 
hastened  to  learn  the  cause,  followed  by  Katy  and  the  black.  The 
first  glance  of  his  eye  on  the  figure  in  the  doorway  told  the  trader 
but  too  well  his  errand,  and  the  fate  that  probably  awaited  himself. 
The  intruder  was  a man  still  young  in  years,  but  his  lineaments 
bespoke  a mind  long  agitated  by  evil  passions.  His  dress  was  of 
the  meanest  materials,  and  so  ragged  and  unseemly,  as  to  give  him 
the  appearance  of  studied  poverty.  His  hair  was  prematurely 
whitened,  and  his  sunken,  lowering  eye,  avoided  the  bold,  forward 
look  of  innocence.  There  was  a restlessness  in  his  movements,  and 
an  agitation  in  his  manner,  that  proceeded  from  the  workings  of  the 
foul  spirit  within  him,  and  which  was  not  less  offensive  to  others 
than  distressing  to  himself.  This  man  was  a well-known  leader  of 
one  of  those  gangs  of  marauders  who  infested  the  county  with  a sem- 
blance of  patriotism,  and  who  were  guilty  of  every  grade  of  offence, 
from  simple  theft  up  to  murder.  Behind  him  stood  several  other 
figures  clad  in  a similar  manner,  but  whose  countenances  expressed 
nothing  more  than  the  indifference  of  brutal  insensibility.  They 
were  all  well  armed  with  muskets  and  bayonets,  and  provided  with 
the  usual  implements  of  foot-soldiers.  Harvey  knew  resistance  to 
be  vain,  and  quietly  submitted  to  their  directions.  In  the  twinkling 


143 


IHE  SPY. 


of  an  eye  both  he  and  Caesar  were  stripped  of  their  decent  garments, 
and  made  to  exchange  clothes  with  two  of  the  filthiest  of  the  band. 
They  were  then  placed  in  separate  corners  of  the  room,  and,  undei 
the  muzzles  of  the  muskets,  required  faithfully  to  answer  such  inter- 
rogatories as  were  put  to  them. 

“ Where  is  your  pack  ?”  was  the  first  question  to  the  pedler. 

“ Hear  me,”  said  Birch,  trembling  with  agitation ; “ in  the  next 
room  is  my  father,  now  in  the  agonies  of  death ; let  me  go  to  him, 
receive  his  blessing,  and  close  his  eyes,  and  you  shall  have  ail  — 

ay,  all  ” 

“ Answer  me  as  I put  the  questions,  or  this  musket  shall  send 
you  to  keep  the  old  driveller  company : — where  is  your  pack  ?” 

“ I will  tell  you  nothing,  unless  you  let  me  go  to  my  father,”  said 
the  pedler,  resolutely. 

His  persecutor  raised  his  arm  with  a malicious  sneer,  and  was 
about  to  execute  his  threat,  when  one  of  his  companions  checked 
him. 

“What  would  you  do?”  he  said,  “you  surely  forget  the  reward. 
Tell  us  where  are  your  goods,  and  you  shall  go  to  your  father.” 

Birch  complied  instantly,  and  a man  was  despatched  in  quest  of 
the  booty;  he  soon  returned,  throwing  the  bundle  on  the  floor, 
swearing  it  was  as  light  as  feathers. 

“ Ay,”  cried  the  leader,  “ there  must  be  gold  somewhere  for  what 
it  did  contain.  Give  us  your  gold,  Mr.  Birch ; we  know  you  have 
it ; you  will  not  take  continental,  not  you.” 

“ You  break  your  faith,”  said  Harvey. 

“ Give  us  your  gold,”  exclaimed  the  other,  furiously,  pricking  the 
pedler  with  his  bayonet  until  the  blood  followed  his  pushes  in 
streams.  At  this  instant  a slight  movement  was  heard  in  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  Harvey  cried  imploringly  — 

“Let  me  — let  me  go  to  my  father,  and  you  shall  have  all.” 

“ I swear  you  shall  go  then,”  said  the  Skinner. 

“ Here,  take  the  trash,”  cried  Birch,  as  he  threw  aside  the  purse, 


THE  SPY. 


14 y 


which  he  had  contrived  to  conceal,  notwithstanding  the  change  in 
his  garments. 

The  robber  raised  it  from  the  floor  with  a hellish  laugh. 

“ Ay,  but  it  shall  be  to  your  father  in  heaven.” 

“ Monster  ! have  you  no  feeling,  no  faith,  no  honesty  ?” 

“ To  hear  him,  one  would  think  there  was  not  a rope  around  his 
neck  already,”  said  the  other,  laughing.  “ There  is  no  necessity  for 
your  being  uneasy,  Mr.  Birch ; if  the  old  man  gets  a few  hours  the 
start  of  you  in  the  journey,  you  will  be  sure  to  follow  him  before 
noon  to-morrow.” 

This  unfeeling  communication  had  no  effect  on  the  pedler,  who 
listened  with  gasping  breath  to  every  sound  from  the  room  of  his 
parent,  until  he  heard  his  own  name  spoken  in  the  hollow,  sepul- 
chral tones  of  death.  Birch  could  endure  no  more,  but  shrieking 
out  — 

“ Father  ! hush  — father  ! I come  — I come  :”  he  darted  by  his 
keeper,  and  was  the  next  moment  pinned  to  the  wall  by  the  bayonet 
of  another  of  the  band.  Fortunately,  his  quick  motion  had  caused 
him  to  escape  a thrust  aimed  at  his  life,  and  it  was  by  his  clothes 
only  that  he  was  confined. 

“No,  Mr.  Birch,”  said  the  Skinner,  “we  know  you  too  well  for  a 
slippery  rascal,  to  trust  you  out  of  sight  — your  gold,  your  gold  !” 

“You  have  it,”  said  the  pedler,  writhing  with  agony. 

“ Ay,  we  have  the  purse,  but  you  have  more  purses.  King  George 
is  a prompt  paymaster,  and  you  have  done  him  many  a piece  of  good 
service.  Where  is  your  hoard  ? without  it  you  will  never  see  your 
father.” 

“Bemove  the  stone  underneath  the  woman,”  cried  the  pedler, 
eagerly  — “ remove  the  stone.” 

“ He  raves  ! he  raves  V said  Katy,  instinctively  moving  her  posh 
tion  to  a different  stone  from  the  one  on  which  she  had  been  stand- 
ing. In  a moment  it  was  torn  from  its  bed,  and  nothing  but  earth 
was  seen  beneath. 


150 


THE  SPY. 


u He  raves  ! you  have  driven  him  from  his  right  mind,”  continued 
the  trembling  spinster ; “ would  any  man  in  his  senses  keep  gold 
under  a hearth  ?” 

“ Peace,  babbling  fool !”  cried  Harvey.  “ Lift  the  corner  stone, 
and  you  will  find  that  which  will  make  you  rich,  and  me  a beggar.” 

u Amd  then  you  will  be  despisable,”  said  the  housekeeper,  bit- 
terly. u A pedler  without  goods  and  without  money  is  sure  to  be 
despisable.” 

“ There  will  be  enough  left  to  pay  for  his  halter,”  cried  the  Skin- 
ner, who  was  not  slow  to  follow  the  instructions  of  Harvey,  soon 
lighting  upon  a store  of  English  guineas.  The  money  was  quickly 
transferred  to  a bag,  notwithstanding  the  declarations  of  the  spinster, 
that  her  dues  were  unsatisfied,  and  that,  of  right,  ten  of  the  guineas 
were  her  property. 

Delighted  with  a prize  that  greatly  exceeded  their  expectations, 
the  band  prepared  to  depart,  intending  to  take  the  pedler  with  them, 
in  order  to  give  him  up  to  the  American  troops  above,  and  to  claim 
the  reward  offered  for  his  apprehension.  Every  thing  was  ready, 
and  they  were  about  to  lift  Birch  in  their  arms,  for  he  resolutely 
refused  to  move  an  inch,  when  a form  appeared  in  their  midst, 
which  appalled  the  stoutest  heart  among  them.  The  father  had 
arisen  from  his  bed,  and  he  tottered  forth  at  the  cries  of  his  son. 
Around  his  body  was  thrown  the  sheet  of  the  bed,  and  his  fixed  eye 
and  haggard  face  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a being  from  another 
world.  Even  Katy  and  Caesar  thought  it  was  the  spirit  of  the  elder 
Birch,  and  they  fled  the  house,  followed  by  the  alarmed  Skinners  in 
a body. 

The  excitement,  which  had  given  the  sick  man  strength,  soon 
vanished,  and  the  pedler,  lifting  him  in  his  arms,  re-conveyed  him 
to  his  bed.  The  re-action  of  the  system  which  followed  hastened  to 
close  the  scene. 

The  glazed  eye  of  the  father  was  fixed  upon  the  son ; his  lips 
moved,  but  his  voice  was  unheard.  Harvey  bent  down,  and,  with 


THE  S P V . 


151 


the  parting  breath  of  his  parent,  received  his  dying  benediction.  A 
life  of  privation,  and  of  wrongs,  embittered  most  of  the  future  hours 
of  the  pedler.  But  under  no  sufferings,  in  no  misfortunes,  the 
subject  of  poverty  and  obloquy,  the  remembrance  of  that  blessing 
never  left  him ; it  constantly  gleamed  over  the  images  of  the  past, 
shedding  a holy  radiance  around  his  saddest  hours  of  despondency  ; 
it  cheered  the  prospect  of  the  future  with  the  prayers  of  a pious 
spirit ; and  it  brought  the  sweet  assurance  of  having  faithfully  and 
truly  discharged  the  sacred  offices  of  filial  love. 

The  retreat  of  Caesar  and  the  spinster  had  been  too  precipitate  to 
admit  of  much  calculation  ; yet  they  themselves  instinctively  sepa- 
rated from  the  Skinners.  After  fleeing  a short  distance  they  paused, 
and  the  maiden  commenced  in  a solemn  voice — 

“ Oh  ! Caesar,  was  it  not  dreadful  to  walk  before  he  had  been  laid 
in  his  grave ! It  must  have  been  the  money  that  disturbed  him  : 
they  say  Captain  Kidd  walks  near  the  spot  where  he  buried  gold 
in  the  old  war.” 

“I  neber  t’ink  Johnny  Birch  hab  such  a big  eye!”  said  the 
African,  his  teeth  yet  chattering  with  the  fright. 

“ I’m  sure  ’twould  be  a botherment  to  a living  soul  to  lose  so 
much  money.  Harvey  will  be  nothing  but  an  utterly  despisable, 
poverty-stricken  wretch.  I wonder  who  he  thinks  would  be  even 
his  housekeeper !” 

“Maybe  a spooke  take  away  Harvey,  too,”  observed  Caesar, 
moving  still  nearer  to  the  side  of  the  maiden.  But  a new  idea  had 
seized  the  imagination  of  the  spinster.  She  thought  it  not  improba- 
ble that  the  prize  had  been  forsaken  in  the  confusion  of  the  retreat ; 
and  after  deliberating  and  reasoning  for  some  time  with  Caesar,  they 
determined  to  venture  back,  and  ascertain  this  important  fact,  and, 
if  possible,  learn  what  had  been  the  fate  of  the  pedler.  Much  time 
was  spent  in  cautiously  approaching  the  dreaded  spot ; and  as  the 
spinster  had  sagaciously  placed  herself  in  the  line  of  the  retreat  of  the 
Skinners,  every  ston1.  was  examined  in  the  progress  in  search  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


abandoned  gold.  But  although  the  suddenness  of  the  alarm  and  the 
cry  of  Caesar  had  impelled  the  freebooters  to  so  hasty  a retreat,  they 
grasped  the  hoard  with  a hold  that  death  itself  would  not  have 
loosened.  Perceiving  every  thing  to  be  quiet  within;  Katy  at  length 
mustered  resolution  to  enter  the  dwelling,  where  she  found  the 
pedler,  with  a heavy  heart,  performing  the  last  sad  offices  for  the 
dead.  A few  words  sufficed  to  explain  to  Katy  the  nature  of  her 
mistake;  but  Caesar  continued  to  his  dying  day  to  astonish  the 
sable  inmates  of  the  kitchen  with  learned  dissertations  on  spookes , 
and  to  relate  how  direful  was  the  appearance  of  that  of  Johnny 
Birch. 

The  danger  compelled  the  pedler  to  abridge  even  the  short  period 
that  American  custom  leaves  the  deceased  with  us ; and,  aided  by 
the  black  and  Katy,  his  painful  task  was  soon  ended.  Caesar  volun- 
teered to  walk  a couple  of  miles  with  orders  to  a carpenter ; and,  the 
body  being  habited  in  its  ordinary  attire,  was  left,  with  a sheet 
thrown  decentty  over  it,  to  await  the  return  of  the  messenger. 

The  Skinners  had  lied  precipitately  to  the  wood,  which  was  but  a 
short  distance  from  the  house  of  Birch,  and  once  safely  sheltered 
within  its  shades,  they  halted,  and  mustered  their  panic-stricken 
forces. 

“ What  in  the  name  of  fury  seized  your  coward  hearts?”  cried 
their  dissatisfied  leader,  drawing  his  breath  heavily. 

“ The  same  question  might  be  asked  yourself,”  returned  one  of 
the  band,  sullenly. 

“ From  your  fright,  I thought  a party  of  De  Fancy's  men  were 
upon  us.  Oh  ! you  are  brave  gentlemen  at  a race  !” 

“We  follow  our  Captain.” 

“ Then  follow  me  back,  and  let  us  secure  the  scoundrel,  and  re- 
ceive the  reward.” 

“Yes;  and  by  the  time  we  reach  the  house,  that  black  rascal 
will  have  the  mad  Virginian  upon  us : by  my  soul,  I would  rather 
meet  fifty  Cow-Boys  than  that  single  man.” 


THE  S f Y. 


153 


“ Fool  !”  cried  the  enraged  leader,  u don’t  you  know  Dunwoodie’s 
horse  are  at  the  Corners,  full  two  miles  from  here  V9 

u I care  not  where  the  dragoons  are,  hut  1 will  swear  that  I saw 
Captain  Lawton  enter  the  house  of  old  Wharton,  while  I lay  watch- 
ing an  opportunity  of  getting  the  British  Colonel’s  horse  from  the 
stable.” 

u And  if  he  should  come,  won’t  a bullet  silence  a dragoon  from 
the  south  as  well  as  one  from  old  England  ?’” 

“ Ay,  but  I don’t  choose  a hornet’s  nest  about  my  ears;  rase  the 
skin  of  one  of  that  corps,  and  you  will  never  see  another  peaceable 
night’s  foraging  again.” 

“Well,”  muttered  the  leader,  as  they  retired  deeper  into  the 
wood,  “ this  sottish  pedler  will  stay  to  see  the  old  devil  buried ; and 
though  we  cannot  touch  him  at  the  funeral  (for  that  would  raise 
every  old  woman  and  priest  in  America  against  us),  he  ’ll  wait  to 
look  after  the  movables,  and  to-morrow  night  shall  wind  up  his  con- 
cerns.” 

With  this  threat  they  withdrew  to  one  of  their  usual  places  of 
resort,  until  darkness  should  again  give  them  an  opportunit}”  of 
marauding  on  the  community  without  danger  of  detection. 


CHAPTER  XL 


O wo  ! O woful,  woful,  woful  day ! 

Most  lamentable  day : most  woful  day, 

That  ever,  ever,  I did  yet  behold ! 

O day ! O day  ! O day  ! O hateful  day  ! 

Never  was  seen  so  black  a day  as  this : 

O woful  day  ! O woful  day  ! 

Shakspeare. 

The  family  at  the  Locusts  had  slept,  or  watched,  through  all  the 
disturbances  at  the  cottage  of  Birch,  in  perfect  ignorance  of  their 
occurrence.  The  attacks  of  the  Skinners  were  always  made  with  so 
much  privacy  as  to  exclude  the  sufferers,  not  only  from  succour,  but 
frequently,  through  a dread  of  future  depredations,  from  the  com- 
miseration of  their  neighbours  also.  Additional  duties  had  drawn 
the  ladies  from  their  pillows  at  an  hour  somewhat  earlier  than  usual ; 
and  Captain  Lawton,  notwithstanding  the  sufferings  of  his  body,  had 
risen  in  compliance  with  a rule  from  which  he  never  departed,  of 
sleeping  but  six  hours  at  a time.  This  was  one  of  the  few  points, 
in  which  the  care  of  the  human  frame  was  involved,  on  which  the 
trooper  and  the  surgeon  of  horse  were  ever  known  to  agree.  The 
doctor  had  watched,  during  the  night,  by  the  side  of  the  bed  of 
Captain  Singleton,  without  once  closing  his  eyes.  Occasionally  he 
would  pay  a visit  to  the  wounded  Englishman,  who,  being  more 
hurt  in  the  spirit  than  in  the  flesh,  tolerated  the  interruptions  with 
a very  ill  grace ; and  once,  for  an  instant,  he  ventured  to  steal  softly 
to  the  bed  of  his  obstinate  comrade,  and  was  near  succeeding  in  ob- 
taining a touch  of  his  pulse,  when  a terrible  oath,  sworn  by  the 


T HE  SPY. 


150 


trooper  in  a dream,  startled  the  prudent  surgeon,  and  warned  him 
of  a trite  saying  in  the  corps,  “that  Captain  Lawton  always  slept 
with  one  eye  open.”  This  group  had  assembled  in  one  of  the  par- 
lours as  the  sun  made  its  appearance  over  the  eastern  hill,  dispersing 
the  columns  of  fog  which  had  enveloped  the  low  land. 

Miss  Peyton  was  looking  from  a window  in  the  direction  of  the 
tenement  of  the  pedler,  and  was  expressing  a kind  anxiety  after  the 
welfare  of  the  sick  man,  when  the  person  of  Katy  suddenly  emerged 
from  the  dense  covering  of  an  earthly  cloud,  whose  mists  were  scat- 
tering before  the  cheering  rays  of  the  sun,  and  was  seen  making 
hasty  steps  towards  the  Locusts.  There  was  that  in  the  air  of  the 
housekeeper  which  bespoke  distress  of  an  unusual  nature,  and  the 
kind-hearted  mistress  of  the  Locusts  opened  the  door  of  the  room, 
with  the  benevolent  intention  of  soothing  a grief  that  seemed  so  over- 
whelming. A nearer  view  of  the  disturbed  features  of  the  visitor 
confirmed  Miss  Peyton  in  her  belief ; and,  with  the  shock  that  gen- 
tle feelings  ever  experience  at  a sudden  and  endless  separation  from 
even  the  meanest  of  their  associates,  she  said  hastily  — 

“ Katy,  is  he  gone  ?” 

“No,  ma’am,”  replied  the  disturbed  damsel,  with  great  bitterness, 
“he  is  not  yet  gone,  but  he  may  go  as  soon  as  he  pleases  now,  for 
the  worst  is  done.  I do  verily  believe,  Miss  Peyton,  they  have  n’t 
so  much  as  left  him  money  enough  to  buy  him  another  suit  of  clothes 
to  cover  his  nakedness,  and  those  he  has  on  are  none  of  the  best,  I 
can  tell  you.” 

“ How,”  exclaimed  the  other,  astonished,  “ could  any  one  have 
the  heart  to  plunder  a man  in  such  distress  ?” 

“ Hearts  !”  repeated  Katy,  catching  her  breath;  “men  like  them 
have  no  bowels  at  all.  Plunder  and  distress,  indeed  ! Why,  ma’am, 
there  were  in  the  iron  pot,  in  plain  sight,  fifty-four  guineas  of  gold, 
besides  what  lay  underneath,  which  I could  n’t  count  without  han- 
dling} and  I didn’t  like  to  touch  it.  for  they  say  that  another’s  gold 
is  apt  to  stick  — so,  judging  from  that  in  sight,  there  wasn’t  less 


1 0(j 


T H E SPY. 


than  two  hundred  guineas,  besides  what  might  have  been  in  the  deer- 
skin purse.  But  Harvey  is  little  better  now  than  a beggar ; and  a 
beggar,  Miss  Jeanette,  is  the  most  awfully  despisable  of  all  earthly 
creatures.” 

“ Poverty  is  to  be  pitied,  and  not  despised,”  said  the  lady,  still 
unable  to  comprehend  the  extent  of  the  misfortune  that  had  befallen 
her  neighbour  during  the  night.  u But  how  is  the  old  man  ? and 
does  this  loss  affect  him  much?” 

The  countenance  of  Katy  changed,  from  the  natural  expression  of 
concern,  to  the  set  form  of  melancholy,  as  she  answered  — 

“ He  is  happily  removed  from  the  cares  of  the  world ; the  chink- 
ing of  the  money  made  him  get  out  of  his  bed,  and  the  poor  soul 
found  the  shock  too  great  for  him.  He  died  about  two  hours  and 
ten  minutes  before  the  cock  crowed,  as  near  as  we  can  say ;” — she 
was  interrupted  by  the  physician,  who,  approaching,  enquired,  with 
much  interest,  the  nature  of  the  disorder.  Glancing  her  eye  over 
the  figure  of  this  new  acquaintance,  Katy,  instinctively  adjusting  her 
dress,  replied  — 

“ *T  was  the  troubles  of  the  times,  and  the  loss  of  property,  that 
brought  him  down ; he  wasted  from  day  to  day,  and  all  my  care  and 
anxiety  were  lost ; for  now  Harvey  is  no  better  than  a beggar,  and 
who  is  there  to  pay  me  for  what  I have  done?” 

“ God  will  reward  you  for  all  the  good  you  have  done,”  said  Miss 
Peyton,  mildly. 

u Yes,”  interrupted  the  spinster  hastily,  and  with  an  air  of  reve- 
rence that  was  instantly  succeeded  by  an  expression  that  denoted 
more  of  worldly  care ; u but  then  I have  left  my  wages  for  three 
years  past  in  the  hands  of  Harvey,  and  how  am  I to  get  them  ? My 
brothers  told  me,  again  and  again,  to  ask  for  my  money;  but  I al- 
ways thought  accounts  between  relations  were  easily  settled.” 

u Were  you  related,  then,  to  Birch?”  asked  Miss  Peyton,  observ- 
ing her  to  pause. 

Why,  returned  the  housekeeper,  hesitating  a little,  “I  thought 


THE  SPY. 


157 


we  were  as  good  as  so.  I wonder  if  I have  no  claim  on  the  house 
and  garden  ; though  they  say,  now  it  is  Harvey’s,  it  will  surely  he 
confisticated  ;”  turning  to  Lawton,  who  had  been  sitting  in  one  pos- 
ture, with  his  piercing  eyes  lowering  at  her  through  his  thick  brows, 
in  silence,  “ perhaps  this  gentleman  knows  — he  seems  to  take  an 
interest  in  iny  story.” 

“ Madam,”  said  the  trooper,  bowing  very  low,  “ both  you  and  the 
tale  are  extremely  interesting”  — Katy  smiled  involuntarily  — “but 
my  humble  knowledge  is  limited  to  the  setting  of  a squadron  in  the 
field,  and  using  it  when  there.  I beg  leave  to  refer  you  to  Hr.  Ar- 
chibald Sitgreaves,  a gentleman  of  universal  attainments,  and  un- 
bounded philanthropy;  the  very  milk  of  human  sympathies,  and  a 
mortal  foe  to  all  indiscriminate  cutting.” 

“ The  surgeon  drew  up,  and  employed  himself  in  whistling  a low 
air,  as  he  looked  over  some  phials  on  a table ; but  the  housekeeper, 
turning  to  him  with  an  inclination  of  the  head,  continued  — 

“ I suppose,  sir,  a woman  has  no  dower  in  her  husband’s  property, 
unless  they  be  actually  married  ?” 

It  was  a maxim  with  Hr.  Sitgreaves,  that  no  species  of  knowledge 
was  to  be  despised ; and,  consequently,  he  was  an  empiric  in  every 
thing  but  his  profession.  At  first,  indignation  at  the  irony  of  his 
comrade  kept  him  silent;  but,  suddenly  changing  his  purpose,  he 
answered  the  applicant  with  a good-natured  smile  — 

“ I judge  not.  If  death  has  anticipated  your  nuptials,  I am  fear- 
ful you  have  no  remedy  against  his  stern  decrees.” 

To  Katy  this  sounded  well,  although  she  understood  nothing  of 
its  meaning,  but  “death”  and  “nuptials.”  To  this  part  of  his 
speech,  then,  she  directed  her  reply. 

“ I did  think  he  only  waited  the  death  of  the  old  gentleman  before 
he  married,”  said  the  housekeeper,  looking  on  the  carpet;  “but  now 
he  is  nothing  more  than  despisable,  or,  what’s  the  same  thing,  a 
pedler  without  house,  pack,  or  money.  It  might  be  hard  for  a man 


158 


T HE  SPY. 


to  get  a wife  at  all  in  sucli  a predicary — don’t  you  think  it  would, 
Miss  Peyton?” 

“I  seldom  trouble  myself  with  such  things/’  said  the  lady 
gravely. 

During  this  dialogue  Captain  Lawton  had  been  studying  the  coun- 
tenance and  manner  of  the  housekeeper,  with  a most  ludicrous  gra- 
vity; and,  fearful  the  conversation  would  cease,  he  enquired,  with 
an  appearance  of  great  interest  — 

“ You  think  it  was  age  and  debility  that  removed  the  old  gentle- 
man at  last?” 

“And  the  troublesome  times.  Trouble  is  a heavy  pull-down  to  a 
sick-bed ; but  I suppose  his  time  had  come,  and  when  that  happens, 
it  matters  but  little  what  doctor’s  stuff  we  take.” 

“Let  me  set  you  right  in  that  particular,”  interrupted  the  sur- 
geon ; “we  must  all  die,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  permitted  us  to  use  the 
lights  of  science,  in  arresting  dangers  as  they  occur,  until  — ” 

“We  can  die  secundum  artem ,”  cried  the  trooper. 

To  this  observation  the  physician  did  not  deign  to  reply;  but, 
deeming  it  necessary  to  his  professional  dignity  that  the  conversation 
should  continue,  he  added  — 

“ Perhaps,  in  this  instance,  judicious  treatment  might  have  pro- 
longed the  life  of  the  patient.  Who  administered  to  the  case?” 
“No  one  yet,”  said  the  housekeeper,  with  quickness;  “I  expect 
he  has  made  his  last  will  in  the  testament.” 

The  surgeon  disregarded  the  smile  of  the  ladies,  and  pursued  his 
enquiries. 

“It  is  doubtless  wise  to  be  prepared  for  death.  But  under  whose 
care  was  the  sick  man  during  his  indisposition  ?” 

“ Under  mine,”  answered  Katy,  with  an  air  of  a little  importance ; 
“ and  care  thrown  away  I may  well  call  it ; for  Harvey  is  quite  toe 
despisable  to  be  any  sort  of  compensation  at  present.” 

The  mutual  ignorance  of  each  other’s  meaning  made  very  little 


T HE  SPY. 


159 


interruption  to  the  dialogue,  for  both  took  a good  deal  for  granted, 
and  Sitgreaves  pursued  the  subject. 

“And  how  did  you  treat  him  ?” 

“ Kindly,  you  may  be  certain,”  said  Katy,  rather  tartly. 

“ The  doctor  means  medically,  madam,”  observed  Captain  Lawton, 
with  a face  that  would  have  honoured  the  funeral  of  the  deceased. 

“ I doctor’d  him  mostly  with  yarbs,”  said  the  housekeeper,  smil- 
mg,  as  if  conscious  of  error. 

“ With  simples,”  returned  the  surgeon ; “ they  are  safer  in  the 
hands  of  the  unlettered  than  more  powerful  remedies : but  why  had 
you  no  regular  attendant?” 

“ I ’m  sure  Harvey  has  suffered  enough  already  from  having  so 
much  concerns  with  the  rig’lars,”  replied  the  housekeeper;  “he  has 
lost  his  all,  and  made  himself  a vagabond  through  the  land ; and  I 
have  reason  to  rue  the  day  I ever  crossed  the  threshold  of  his 
house.” 

“Dr.  Sitgreaves  does  not  mean  a rig’lar  soldier,  but  a regular 
physician,  madam,”  said  the  trooper. 

“ Oh  !”  cried  the  maiden,  again  correcting  herself,  “ for  the  best 
of  all  reasons;  there  was  none  to  be  had,  so  I took  care  of  him 
myself.  If  there  had  been  a doctor  at  hand,  I am  sure  we  would 
gladly  have  had  him ; for  my  part,  I am  clear  for  doctoring,  though 
Harvey  says  I am  killing  myself  with  medicines ; but  I am  sure  it 
will  make  but  little  difference  to  him,  whether  I live  or  die.” 

“Therein  you  show  your  sense,”  said  the  surgeon,  approaching 
the  spinster,  who  sat  holding  the  palms  of  her  hands  and  the  soles 
of  her  feet  to  the  genial  heat  of  a fine  fire,  making  the  most  of  com- 
fort amid  all  her  troubles ; “ you  appear  to  be  a sensible,  discreet 
woman,  and  some  who  have  had  opportunities  of  acquiring  more 
correct  views  might  envy  you  your  respect  for  knowledge  and  the 
lights  of  science.” 

Although  the  housekeeper  did  not  altogether  comprehend  the 
other’s  meaning,  she  knew  he  used  a compliment,  and  as  such  was 


.60 


T HE  S P Y. 


highly  pleased  with  what  he  said ; with  increase  1 animation,  there- 
fore, she  cried,  “ It  was  always  said  of  me,  that  I wanted  nothing 
but  opportunity  to  make  quite  a physician  myself ; so  long  as  before 
I came  to  live  with  Harvey’s  father,  they  called  me  the  petticoat 
doctor.” 

“ More  true  than  civil,  I dare  say,”  returned  the  surgeon,  losing 
sight  of  the  woman’s  character  in  his  admiration  of  her  respect  for 
the  healing  art.  “ In  the  absence  of  more  enlightened  counsellors, 
the  experience  of  a discreet  matron  is  frequently  of  great  efficacy 
in  checking  the  progress  of  disease;  under  such  circumstances, 
madam,  it  is  dreadful  to  have  to  contend  with  ignorance  and 
obstinacy.” 

“ Bad  enough,  as  I well  know  from  experience,”  cried  Katy,  in 
triumph : “ Harvey  is  as  obstinate  about  such  things  as  a dumb 
beast;  one  would  think  the  care  I took  of  his  bed-ridden  father 
might  learn  him  better  than  to  despise  good  nursing.  But  some 
day  he  may  know  what  it  is  to  want  a careful  woman  in  his  house, 
though  now  I am  sure  he  is  too  despisable  himself  to  have  a house.” 

“ Indeed,  I can  easily  comprehend  the  mortification  you  must 
have  felt  in  having  one  so  self-willed  to  deal  with,”  returned  the 
surgeon,  glancing  his  eyes  reproachfully  at  his  comrade ; “ but  you 
should  rise  superior  to  such  opinions,  and  pity  the  ignorance  by 
which  they  are  engendered.” 

The  housekeeper  hesitated  a moment,  at  a loss  to  comprehend  all 
that  the  surgeon  expressed,  yet  she  felt  it  was  both  complimentary 
and  kind;  therefore,  suppressing  her  natural  flow  of  language  a 
little,  she  replied  — 

“ I tell  Harvey  his  conduct  is  often  condemnable,  and  last  night 
he  made  my  words  good;  but  the  opinions  of  such  unbelievers  is 
not  very  consequential ; yet  it  is  dreadful  to  think  how  he  behaves 
at  times  : now,  when  he  threw  away  the  needle  — ” 

“What!”  said  the  surgeon,  interrupting  her,  “does  he  affect  to 
lespise  the  needle?  But  it  is  my  lot  to  meet  with  men,  daily,  who 


THE  S P r . 


161 


are  equally  perverse,  and  who  show  a still  more  culpable  disrespect 
for  the  information  that  flows  from  the  lights  of  science.” 

The  doctor  turned  his  face  towards  Captain  Lawton  while  speak- 
ing, but  the  elevation  of  the  head  prevented  his  eyes  from  resting  on 
the  grave  countenance  maintained  by  the  trooper.  Katy  listened 
with  admiring  attention,  and  when  the  other  had  done,  she  added — 
“ Then  Harvey  is  a disbeliever  in  the  tides.” 

“Not  believe  in  the  tides!”  repeated  the  healer  of  bodies  in 
astonishment ; “ does  the  man  distrust  his  senses  ? but  perhaps  it  is 
the  influence  of  the  moon  that  he  doubts.” 

“ That  he  does !”  exclaimed  Katy,  shaking  with  delight  at  meet- 
ing with  a man  of  learning,  who  could  support  her  favourite  opinions. 
“If  you  was  to  hear  him  talk,  you  would  think  he  didn’t  believe 
there  was  such  a thing  as  a moon  at  all.” 

“ It  is  the  misfortune  of  ignorance  and  incredulity,  madam,  that 
they  feed  themselves.  The  mind  once  rejecting  useful  information, 
insensibly  leans  to  superstition  and  conclusions  on  the  order  of 
nature,  that  are  not  less  prejudicial  to  the  cause  of  truth,  than  they 
are  at  variance  with  the  first  principles  of  human  knowledge.” 

The  spinster  was  too  much  awe-struck  to  ve*  ture  an  undigested 
reply  to  this  speech ; and  the  surgeon,  after  pan  ,ing  a moment  in  a 
kind  of  philosophical  disdain,  continued  — 

“ That  any  man  in  his  senses  can  doubt  of  the  flux  of  the  tides  is 
more  than  I could  have  thought  possible ; yet  obstinacy  is  a danger- 
ous inmate  to  harbour,  and  may  lead  us  into  any  error,  however 
gross.” 

“ You  think,  then,  they  have  an  effect  on  the  flux,”  said  the 
housekeeper,  enquiringly. 

Miss  Peyton  rose,  and  beckoned  her  nieces  to  give  her  their  as- 
sistance in  the  adjoining  pantry,  while  for  a moment  the  dark  visage 
of  the  attentive  Lawton  was  lighted  by  an  animation  that  vanished 
by  an  effort,  as  powerful,  and  as  sudden,  as  the  one  that,  drew  it  into 
being. 


162 


THE  SPY. 


After  reflecting  whether  he  rightly  understood  the  meaning  of  the 
other,  the  surgeon  making  due  allowance  for  the  love  of  learning, 
acting  upon  a want  of  education,  replied  — 

“ The  moon,  you  mean ; many  philosophers  have  doubted  how  far 
it  affects  the  tides;  but  I think  it  is  wilfully  rejecting  the  lights  of 
science  not  to  believe  it  causes  both  the  flux  and  reflux.” 

As  reflux  was  a disorder  with  which  Katy  was  not  acquainted, 
she  thought  it  prudent  to  be  silent;  yet  burning  with  curiosity  to 
know  the  meaning  of  certain  portentous  lights  to  which  the  other  so 
often  alluded,  she  ventured  to  ask  — 

“ If  them  lights  he  spoke  of,  were  what  was  called  northern  lights 
in  these  parts?” 

In  charity  to  her  ignorance,  the  surgeon  would  have  entered  into 
an  elaborate  explanation  of  his  meaning,  had  he  not  been  interrupted 
by  the  mirth  of  Lawton.  The  trooper  had  listened  so  far  with  great 
composure;  but  now  he  laughed  until  his  aching  bones  reminded 
him  of  his  fall,  and  the  tears  rolled  over  his  cheeks  in  larger  drops 
than  had  ever  been  seen  there  before.  At  length  the  offended  phy- 
sician seized  an  opportunity  of  a pause  to  say — 

“ To  you,  Captain  Lawton,  it  may  be  a source  of  triumph,  that 
an  uneducated  woman  should  make  a mistake  in  a subject,  on  which 
men  of  science  have  long  been  at  variance ; but  yet  you  find  this 
respectable  matron  does  not  reject  the  lights — does  not  reject  the 
use  of  proper  instruments  in  repairing  injuries  sustained  by  the  hu- 
man frame.  You  may  possibly  remember,  sir,  her  allusion  to  the 
use  of  the  needle.” 

“Ay,”  cried  the  delighted  trooper,  “to  mend  the  pedler’s 
breeches.” 

Katy  drew  up  in  evident  displeasure,  and  prompt  to  vindicate  her 
character  for  more  lofty  acquirements,  she  said  — 

“’Twas  not  a common  use  that  I put  that  needle  to — but  one  of 
much  greater  virtue.” 


THE  SPY. 


16a 

“ Explain  yourself,  madam,”  said  the  surgeon  impatiently,  u that 
this  gentleman  may  see  how  little  reason  he  has  for  exultation.” 

Thus  solicited,  Ivaty  paused  to  collect  sufficient  eloquence  to  gar- 
nish her  narrative.  The  substance  of  her  tale  was,  that  a child  who 
had  been  placed  by  the  guardians  of  the  poor  in  the  keeping  of  Har- 
vey, had,  in  the  absence  of  its  master,  injured  itself  badly  in  the 
foot  by  a large  needle.  The  offending  instrument  had  been  care- 
fully greased,  wrapped  in  woollen,  and  placed  in  a certain  charmed 
nook  of  the  chimney ; while  the  foot,  from  a fear  of  weakening  the 
incantation,  was  left  in  a state  of  nature.  The  arrival  of  the  pedler 
had  altered  the  whole  of  this  admirable  treatment;  and  the  conse- 
quences were  expressed  by  Katy,  as  she  concluded  her  narrative,  by 
saying  — 

iC  ;T  was  no  wonder  the  boy  died  of  a lock-jaw  !” 

Doctor  Sitgreaves  looked  out  of  the  window  in  admiration  of  the 
brilliant  morning,  striving  all  he  could  to  avoid  the  basilisk  eyes  of 
his  comrade.  He  was  impelled,  by  a feeling  that  he  could  not  con- 
quer, however,  to  look  Captain  Lawton  in  the  face.  The  trooper 
had  arranged  every  muscle  of  his  countenance  to  express  sympathy 
for  the  fate  of  the  poor  child ; but  the  exultation  of  his  eyes  cut  the 
astounded  man  of  science  to  the  quick ; he  muttered  something  con- 
cerning the  condition  of  his  patients,  and  retreated  with  precipitation. 

Miss  Peyton  entered  into  the  situation  of  things  at  the  house  of 
the  pedler,  with  all  the  interest  of  her  excellent  feelings ; she  listened 
patiently  while  Katy  recounted,  more  particularly,  the  circumstances 
of  the  past  night  as  they  had  occurred.  The  spinster  did  not  forget 
to  dwell  on  the  magnitude  of  the  pecuniary  loss  sustained  by  Har- 
vey, and  in  no  manner  spared  her  invectives,  at  his  betraying  a secret 
which  might  so  easily  have  been  kept. 

“ For,  Miss  Peyton,”  continued  the  housekeeper,  after  a pause  to 
take  breath,  u I would  have  given  up  life  before  I would  have  given 
up  that  secref  T the  most,  they  could  only  have  killed  him,  and 
uow  a body  ma  -ay  that  they  have  slain  both  soul  and  body ; or, 


164 


THE  SPY. 


what’s  the  same  thing,  they  have  made  him  a despisahle  vagabond. 
I wonder  who  he  thinks  would  be  his  wife,  or  who  would  keep  his 
house.  For  my  part,  my  good  name  is  too  precious  to  he  living 
with  a lone  man ; though,  for  the  matter  of  that,  he  is  never  there. 
I am  resolved  to  tell  him  this  day,  that  stay  there,  a single  woman, 
I will  not  an  hour,  after  the  funeral ; and  marry  him  I don’t  think 
I will,  unless  he  becomes  steadier,  and  more  of  a homebody.” 

The  mild  mistress  of  the  Locusts  suffered  the  exuberance  of  the 
housekeeper’s  feeling  to  expend  itself,  and  then,  by  one  or  twro  judi- 
cious questions,  that  denoted  a more  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
windings  of  the  human  heart  in  matters  of  Cupid,  than  might  fairly 
be  supposed  to  belong  to  a spinster,  she  extracted  enough  from  Katy, 
to  discover  the  improbability  of  Harvey’s  ever  presuming  to  offer 
himself,  with  his  broken  fortunes,  to  the  acceptance  of  Katharine 
Haynes.  She,  therefore,  mentioned  her  owm  want  of  assistance  in 
the  present  state  of  her  household,  and  expressed  a wish  that  Katy 
would  change  her  residence  to  the  Locusts,  in  case  the  pedler  had 
no  further  use  for  her  services.  After  a few  preliminary  conditions 
on  the  part  of  the  wary  housekeeper,  the  arrangement  was  con- 
cluded ; and  making  a few  more  piteous  lamentations  on  the  weight 
of  her  own  losses,  the  stupidity  of  Harvey,  united  with  some  curio- 
sity to  know  the  future  fate  of  the  pedler,  Katy  withdrew  to  make 
the  necessary  preparations  for  the  approaching  funeral,  which  was 
to  take  place  that  day. 

During  the  interview  between  the  two  females,  Lawton,  through 
delicacy,  had  withdrawn.  Anxiety  took  him  to  the  room  of  Captain 
Singleton  The  character  of  this  youth,  it  has  already  been  shown, 
endeared  him  in  a peculiar  manner  to  every  officer  in  the  corps. 
The  singularly  mild  deportment  of  the  young  dragoon  had,  on  so 
many  occasions,  been  proved  not  to  proceed  from  want  of  resolution, 
that  his  almost  feminine  softness  of  manner  and  appearance  had 
failed  to  bring  him  into  disn  pute,  even  in  that  band  of  partisan 
warriors. 


THE  SPY. 


165 


To  the  Major  he  was  as  dear  as  a brother,  and  his  easy  submis- 
sion to  the  directions  of  his  surgeon  had  made  him  a marked  favour- 
ite with  Dr.  Sitgreaves.  The  rough  usage  the  corps  often  received 
in  its  daring  attacks,  had  brought  each  of  its  officers,  in  succession, 
under  the  temporary  keeping  of  the  surgeon.  To  Captain  Singleton 
the  man  of  science  had  decreed  the  palm  of  docility,  on  such  occa- 
sions, and  Captain  Lawton  he  had  fairly  black-balled.  He  fre- 
quently declared,  with  unconquerable  simplicity  and  earnestness  of 
manner,  that  it  gave  him  more  pleasure  to  see  the  former  brought 
in  wounded  than  any  officer  in  the  squadron,  and  that  the  latter  af- 
forded him  the  least ; a compliment  and  condemnation  that  were 
usually  received  by  the  first  of  the  parties  with  a quiet  Smile  of  good 
nature,  and  by  the  last  with  a grave  bow  of  thanks.  On  the  present 
occasion,  the  mortified  surgeon  and  exulting  trooper  met  in  the  room 
of  Captain  Singleton,  as  a place  where  they  could  act  on  common 
ground.  Some  time  was  occupied  in  joint  attentions  to  the  comfort 
of  the  wounded  officer,  and  the  doctor  retired  to  an  apartment  pre- 
pared for  his  own  accommodation ; here,  within  a few  minutes,  he 
was  surprised  by  the  entrance  of  Lawton.  The  triumph  of  the 
trooper  had  been  so  complete,  that  he  felt  he  could  afford  to  be  gen- 
erous, and  commencing  by  voluntarily  throwing  aside  his  coat,  he 
cried  carelessly  — 

“ Sitgreaves,  administer  a little  of  the  aid  of  the  lights  of  science 
to  my  body,  if  you  please.” 

The  surgeon  was  beginning  to  feel  this  was  a subject  that  was 
intolerable,  but  venturing  a glance  towards  his  comrade,  he  saw  with 
surprise  the  preparations  he  had  made,  and  an  air  of  sincerity  about 
him,  that  was  unusual  to  his  manner  when  making  such  a request. 
Changing  his  intended  burst  of  resentment  to  a tone  of  civil  enquiry, 
he  said  — 

66  Does  Captain  Lawton  want  any  thing  at  my  hands  ?” 

u Look  for  yourself,  my  dear  sir,”  said  the  trooper  mildly;  “here 
seem  to  be  most  of  the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  on  this  shoulder.” 


166 


THE  SPY. 


“ You  have  reason  for  saying  so',"  said  the  other,  handling  the 
part  with  great  tenderness  and  consummate  skill;  but  happily 
nothing  is  broken.  It  is  wonderful  how  well  you  escaped  !" 

“ I have  been  a tumbler  from  my  youth,  and  I am  past  minding 
a few  falls  from  a horse ; but,  Sitgreaves,"  he  added  with  affection, 
and  pointing  to  a scar  on  his  body,  “do  you  remember  this  bit 
of  work  ?" 

“Perfectly  well,  Jack;  it  was  bravely  obtained,  and  neatly 
extracted ; but  don't  you  think  I had  better  apply  an  oil  to  these 
bruises  ?" 

“ Certainly,"  said  Lawton,  with  unexpected  condescension. 

“ Now,  my  dear  boy,"  cried  the  doctor,  exultingly,  as  he  busied 
himself  in  applying  the  remedy  to  the  hurts,  “ do  you  not  think  it 
would  have  been  better  to  have  done  all  this  last  night  ?" 

“ Quite  probable." 

“Yes,  Jack,  but  if  you  had  let  me  perform  the  operation 
of  phlebotomy  when  I first  saw  you,  it  would  have  been  of  infinite 
service." 

“No  phlebotomy,"  said  the  other,  positively. 

“ It  is  now  too  late ; but  a dose  of  oil  would  carry  off  the  humours 
famously." 

To  this  the  Captain  made  no  reply,  but  grated  his  teeth,  in  a way 
that  showed  the  fortress  of  his  mouth  was  not  to  be  assailed  without 
a resolute  resistance;  and  the  experienced  physician  changed  the 
subject  by  saying  — 

“ It  is  a pity,  John,  that  you  did  not  catch  the  rascal,  after  the 
danger  and  trouble  you  incurred." 

The  Captain  of  dragoons  made  no  reply ; and,  while  placing  some 
bandages  on  the  wounded  shoulder,  the  surgeon  continued  — 

“ If  I have  any  wish  at  all  to  destroy  human  life,  it  is  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  that  traitor  hanged." 

“ I thought  your  business  was  to  cure  and  not  to  slay,"  said  the 
trooper,  drily. 


THE  SPY. 


161 

“ Ay ! but  he  has  caused  us  such  heavy  losses  by  his  informa- 
tion, that  I sometimes  feel  a very  unphilosophical  temper  towards 
that  spy.” 

“ You  should  not  encourage  such  feelings  of  animosity  to  any  of 
your  fellow-creatures,”  returned  Lawton,  in  a tone  that  caused  the 
operator  to  drop  a pin  he  was  arranging  in  the  bandages  from  his 
hand.  He  looked  the  patient  in  the  face  to  remove  all  doubts  of  his 
identity : finding,  however,  it  was  his  old  comrade,  Captain  J ohn 
Lawton,  who  had  spoken,  he  rallied  his  astonished  faculties,  and 
proceeded  by  saying  — 

“ Your  doctrine  is  just,  and  in  general  I subscribe  to  it.  But, 
John,  my  dear  fellow,  is  the  bandage  easy?” 

“ Quite.” 

“ I agree  with  you  as  a whole ; but  as  matter  is  infinitely  divisible, 
so  no  case  exists  without  an  exception.  Lawton,  do  you  feel  easy  ?” 

“ Very  ” 

“It  is  not  only  cruel  to  the  sufferer,  but  sometimes  unjust  to 
others,  to  take  human  life  where  a less  punishment  would  answer 
the  purpose.  Now,  Jack,  if  you  were  only  — move  your  arm  a 
little  — if  you  were  only  — I hope  you  feel  easier,  my  dear  friend  ?” 

“ Much.” 

“If,  my  dear  John,  you  would  teach  your  men  to  cut  with  more 
discretion,  it  would  answer  you  the  same  purpose  — and  give  me 
great  pleasure.” 

The  doctor  drew  a heavy  sigh,  as  he  was  enabled  to  get  rid  of 
what  was  nearest  to  his  heart ; and  the  dragoon  coolly  replaced  his 
coat,  saying  with  great  deliberation  as  he  retired  — 

“ I know  no  troop  that  cut  more  judiciously ; they  generally  shave 
from  the  crown  to  the  jaw.” 

The  disappointed  operator  collected  his  instruments,  and  with  a 
heavy  heart  proceeded  to  pay  a visit  to  the  room  of  Colonel 
Wellmere. 


CHAPTER  XII 


This  fairy  form  contains  a soul  as  mighty 
As  that  which  lives  within  a giant’s  frame ; 

These  slender  limbs,  that  tremble  like  the  aspen 
At  summer  evening’s  sigh,  uphold  a spirit, 

Which,  roused,  can  tower  to  the  height  of  heaven. 

And  light  those  shining  windows  of  the  face 
With  much  of  heaven’s  own  radiance. 

Duo. 

The  numlber  and  character  of  her  guests  had  greatly  added  to-  the 
cares  of  Miss  Jeanette  Peyton.  The  morning  found  them  all  re- 
stored, in  some  measure,  to  their  former  ease  of  body,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  youthful  captain  of  dragoons,  who  had  been  so  deeply 
regretted  by  Dunwoodie.  The  wound  of  this  officer  was  severe, 
though  the  surgeon  persevered  in  saying  that  it  was  without  danger. 
His  comrade,  we  have  shown,  had  deserted  his  couch ; and  Henry 
Wharton  awoke  from  a sleep  that  had  been  undisturbed  by  any  thing 
but  a dream  of  suffering  amputation  under  the  hands  of  a surgical 
novice.  As  it  proved,  however,  to  be  nothing  but  a dream,  the  youth 
found  himself  much  refreshed  by  his  slumbers;  and  Dr.  Sitgreaves 
removed  all  further  apprehensions  by  confidently  pronouncing  that 
he  would  be  a well  man  within  a fortnight. 

During  all  this  time  Colonel  Wellmere  did  not  make  his  appear- 
ance ; he  breakfasted  in  his  own  room,  and,  notwithstanding  certain 
significant  smiles  of  the  man  of  science,  declared  himself  too  much 
injured  to  rise  from  his  bed.  Leaving  him,  therefore,  endeavouring 
to  conceal  his  chagrin  in  the  solitude  of  his  chamber,  the  surgeon 
proceeded  to  the  more  grateful  task  of  sitting  an  hour  by  the  bedside 


THE  SPY 


169 


of  George  Singleton.  A slight  flush  was  on  the  face  of  the  patient 
as  the  doctor  entered  the  room ; and  the  latter  advanced  promptly, 
and  laid  his  fingers  on  the  pulse  of  the  youth,  beckoning  to  him  to 
be  silent,  while  he  muttered  to  himself — 

“ Growing  symptoms  of  a febrile  pulse  — no,  no,  my  dear  George, 
you  must  remain  quiet  and  dumb;  though  your  eyes  look  better, 
and  your  skin  has  even  a moisture.” 

“Nay,  my  dear  Sitgreaves,”  said  the  youth,  taking  his  hand,  “you 
see  there  is  no  fever  about  me  : look,  is  there  any  of  Jack  Lawton's 
hoar-frost  on  my  tongue?” 

“No,  indeed,”  said  the  surgeon,  clapping  a spoon  in  the  mouth  of 
the  other,  forcing  it  open,  and  looking  down  his  throat  as  if  disposed 
to  visit  the  interior  in  person ; “ the  tongue  is  well,  and  the  pulse 
begins  to  lower  again.  Ah  ! the  bleeding  did  you  good.  Phleboto- 
my is  a sovereign  specific  for  southern  constitutions.  But  that  mad- 
cap Lawton  obstinately  refused  to  be  blooded  for  a fall  he  had  from 
his  horse  last  night.  Why,  George,  youivcase  is  becoming  singular,” 
continued  the  doctor,  instinctively  throwing  aside  his  wig ; “ your 
pulse  even  and  soft,  your  skin  moist,  but  your  eye  fiery,  and  cheek 
flushed.  Oh  ! I must  examine  more  closely  into  these  symptoms.” 
“ Softly,  my  good  friend,  softly,”  said  the  youth,  falling  back  on 
his  pillow,  and  losing  some  of  that  colour  which  alarmed  his  compa- 
nion ; “I  believe,  in  extracting  the  ball,  you  did  for  me  all  that  is 
required.  I am  free  from  pain,  and  only  weak,  I do  assure  you.” 

“ Captain  Singleton,”  said  the  surgeon,  with  heat,  “ it  is  presump- 
tuous in  you  to  pretend  to  tell  your  medical  attendant  when  you  are 
free  from  pain : if  it  be  not  to  enable  us  to  decide  in  such  matters, 
of  what  avail  the  lights  of  science  ? For  shame,  George,  for  shame  ! 
even  that  perverse  fellow,  John  Lawton,  could  not  behave  with  more 
obstinacy.” 

His  patient  smiled,  as  he  gently  repulsed  his  physician  in  an  at 
tempt  to  undo  the  bandages,  and,  with  a returning  glow  to  his  cheeks, 
enquired  — 


8 


170 


THE  SPY. 


“ Do,  Archibald,”  — a term  of  endearment  that  seldom  failed  ta 
soften  the  operator's  heart, — “ tell  me  what  spirit  from  heaven  has 
been  gliding  around  my  apartment,  while  I lay  pretending  to 
sleep?” 

“ If  any  one  interferes  with  my  patients,”  cried  the  doctor,  hastily, 
“ I will  teach  them,  spirit  or  no  spirit,  what  it  is  to  meddle  with 
another  man's  concerns.” 

“ Tut  — my  dear  fellow,  there  was  no  interference  made,  nor  any 
intended ; see,”  exhibiting  the  bandages,  “ every  thing  is  as  you  left 
it,  — but  it  glided  about  the  room  with  the  grace  of  a fairy,  and  the 
tenderness  of  an  angel.” 

“ The  surgeon,  having  satisfied  himself  that  every  thing  was  as  he 
had  left  it,  very  deliberately  resumed  his  seat  and  replaced  his  wig, 
as  he  enquired,  with  a brevity  that  would  have  honoured  Lieutenant 
Mason  — 

“Had  it  petticoats,  George?” 

“I  saw  nothing  but  its  heavenly  eyes  — its  bloom  — its  majestic 
step  — its  grace,”  replied  the  young  man,  with  rather  more  ardour 
than  his  surgeon  thought  consistent  with  his  debilitated  condition ; 
and  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  mouth  to  stop  him,  saying  himself — 

“It  must  have  been  Miss  Jeanette  Peyton  — a lady  of  fine  accom- 
plishments, with  — hem  — with  something  of  the  kind  of  step  you 
speak  of — a very  complacent  eye;  and  as  to  the  bloom,  I dare  say 
offices  of  charity  can  summon  as  fine  a colour  to  her  cheeks,  as  glows 
in  the  faces  of  her  more  youthful  nieces.” 

“ Nieces ! has  she  nieces,  then  ? The  angel  I saw  may  be  a 
daughter,  a sister,  or  a niece,  — but  never  an  aunt.” 

“ Hush,  George,  hush ; your  talking  has  brought  your  pulse  up 
again.  You  must  observe  quiet,  and  prepare  for  a meeting  with 
your  own  sister,  who  will  be  here  within  an  hour.” 

“ What,  Isabella ! and  who  sent  for  her  ?” 

“The  Major.” 

“ Considerate  Dunwoodie  !”  murmured  the  exhausted  youth,  sink- 


THE  SPY. 


m 


ing  again  on  his  pillow,  where  the  commands  of  his  attendant  com- 
pelled him  to  remain  silent. 

Even  Captain  Lawton  had  been  received  with  many  and  courteous 
enquiries  after  the  state  of  his  health,  from  all  the  members  of  the 
family,  when  he  made  his  morning  entrance ; but  an  invisible  spirit 
presided  over  the  comforts  of  the  English  Colonel.  Sarah  had  shrunk 
with  consciousness  from  entering  the  room ; yet  she  knew  the  posi- 
tion of  every  glass,  and  had,  with  her  own  hands,  supplied  the  con- 
tents of  every  bowl,  that  stood  on  his  table. 

At  the  time  of  our  tale,  we  were  a divided  people,  and  Sarah 
thought  it  was  no  more  than  her  duty  to  cherish  the  institutions  of 
that  country  to  which  she  yet  clung  as  the  land  of  her  forefathers ; 
but  there  were  other  and  more  cogent  reasons  for  the  silent  prefer- 
ence she  was  giving  to  the  Englishman.  His  image  had  first  filled 
the  void  in  her  youthful  fancy,  and  it  was  an  image  that  was  distin- 
guished by  many  of  those  attractions  that  can  enchain  a female 
heart.  It  is  true,  he  wanted  the  personal  excellence  of  Peyton  Dun- 
woodie,  but  his  pretensions  were  far  from  contemptible.  Sarah  had 
moved  about  the  house  during  the  morning,  casting  frequent  and 
longing  glances  at  the  door  of  Wellmere’s  apartment,  anxious  to 
learn  the  condition  of  his  wounds,  and  yet  ashamed  to  enquire ; con- 
scious interest  kept  her  tongue  tied,  until  her  sister,  with  the  frank- 
ness of  innocence,  had  put  the  desired  question  to  Dr.  Sitgreaves. 

“Colonel  Wellmere,”  said  the  operator,  gravely,  “is  in  what  I call 
a state  of  free-will,  madam.  He  is  ill,  or  he  is  well,  as  he  pleases. 
His  case,  young  lady,  exceeds  my  art  to  heal ; and  I take  it  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  is  the  best  adviser  he  can  apply  to ; though  Major 
Dunwoodie  has  made  the  communication  with  his  leech  rather  dif- 
ficult.^ 

Frances  smiled,  but  averted  her  face,  while  Sarah'  moved,  with 
the  grace  of  an  offended  J uno,  from  the  apartment.  Her  own  room, 
however,  afforded  her  but  little  relief,  and  in  passing  through  the 
long  gallery  that  communicated  with  each  of  the  chambers  of  the 


L72 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


building,  she  noticed  the  door  of  Singleton’s  room  to  be  open.  The 
wounded  youth  seemed  sleeping,  and  was  alone.  She  had  ventured 
lightly  into  the  apartment,  and  busied  herself  for  a few  minutes  in 
arranging  the  tables,  and  the  nourishment  provided  for  the  patient, 
hardly  conscious  of  what  she  was  doing,  and  possibly  dreaming  that 
these  little  feminine  offices  were  performed  for  another.  Her  natu- 
ral bloom  was  heightened  by  the  insinuation  of  the  surgeon,  nor  was 
the  lustre  of  her  eye  in  any  degree  diminished.  The  sound  of  the 
approaching  footstep  of  Sitgreaves  hastened  her  retreat  down  a pri- 
vate stairway,  to  the  side  of  her  sister.  The  sisters  then  sought  the 
fresh  air  on  the  piazza ; and  as  they  pursued  their  walk,  arm  in  arm, 
the  following  dialogue  took  place : — 

“ There  is  something  disagreeable  about  this  surgeon  of  Dunwoo- 
die,”  said  Sarah,  “ that  causes  me  to  wish  him  away  most  heartily.” 
Frances  fixed  her  laughing  eyes  on  her  sister ; but  forbearing  to 
speak,  the  other  readily  construed  their  expression,  and  hastily  added, 
“ But  I forget  he  is  one  of  your  renowned  corps  of  Virginians,  and 
must  be  spoken  of  reverently.” 

“ As  respectfully  as  you  please,  my  dear  sister ; there  is  but  little 
danger  of  exceeding  the  truth.” 

“Not  in  your  opinion,”  said  the  elder,  with  a little  warmth; 
“ but  I think  Mr.  Dunwoodie  has  taken  a liberty  that  exceeds  the 
rights  of  consanguinity ; he  has  made  our  father’s  house  a hospital.” 
“We  ought  to  be  grateful  that  none  of  the  patients  it  contains  are 
dearer  to  us.” 

“Your  brother  is  one.” 

“ True,  true,”  interrupted  Frances,  blushing  to  the  eyes ; “ but 
ne  leaves  his  room,  and  thinks  his  wound  lightly  purchased  by  the 
pleasure  of  being  with  his  friends.  If,”  she  added,  with  a tremulous 
lip,  “ this  dreadful  suspicion  that  is  affixed  to  his  visit  were  removed, 
I could  consider  his  wound  of  little  moment.” 

“ You  now  have  the  fruits  of  rebellion  brought  home  to  you ; a 
brother  wounded  and  a prisoner,  and  perhaps  a victim ; your  father 


THE  SPY. 


173 


distressed,  his  privacy  interrupted,  and  not  improbably  his  estates 
torn  from  him,  on  account  of  his  loyalty  to  his  king.” 

Frances  continued  her  walk  in  silence.  While  facing  the  northern 
entrance  to  the  vale,  her  eyes  were  uniformly  fastened  on  the  point 
where  the  road  was  suddenly  lost  by  the  intervention  of  a hill ; and 
at  each  turn,  as  she  lost  sight  of  the  spot,  she  lingered  until  an  im- 
patient movement  of  her  sister  quickened  her  pace  to  an  even  motion 
with  that  of  her  own.  At  length,  a single  horse-chaise  was  seen 
making  its  way  carefully  among  the  stones  which  lay  scattered  over 
the  country  road  that  wound  through  the  valley,  and  approached  the 
cottage.  The  colour  of  Frances  changed  as  the  vehicle  gradually 
drew  nearer ; and  when  she  was  enabled  to  see  a female  form  in  it 
by  the  side  of  a black  in  livery,  her  limbs  shook  with  an  agitation 
that  compelled  her  to  lean  on  Sarah  for  support.  In  a few  minutes 
the  travellers  approached  the  gate.  It  was  thrown  open  by  a 
dragoon  who  followed  the  carriage,  and  who  had  been  the  messenger 
despatched  by  Dunwoodie  to  the  father  of  Captain  Singleton.  Miss 
Peyton  advanced  to  receive  their  guest,  and  the  sisters  united  in 
giving  her  the  kindest  welcome ; still  Frances  could  with  difficulty 
withdraw  her  truant  eyes  from  the  countenance  of  their  visiter.  She 
was  young,  and  of  a light  and  fragile  form,  but  of  exquisite  propor- 
tions. Her  eye  was  large,  full,  black,  piercing,  and  at  times  a little 
wild.  Her  hair  was  luxuriant,  and  as  it  was  without  the  powder  it 
was  then  the  fashion  to  wear,  it  fell  in  raven  blackness.  A few  of 
its  locks  had  fallen  on  her  cheek,  giving  its  chilling  whiteness  by  the 
contrast  a more  deadly  character.  Hr.  Sitgreaves  supported  her 
from  the  chaise ; and  when  she  gained  the  floor  of  the  piazza,  she 
turned  an  expressive  look  on  the  face  of  the  practitioner. 

u Your  brother  is  out  of  danger,  and  wishes  to  see  you,  Miss  Sin- 
gleton,” said  the  surgeon. 

The  lady  burst  into  a flood  of  tears.  Frances  had  stood  contem- 
plating the  action  and  face  of  Isabella  with  a kind  of  uneasy  admi- 
ration, but  she  now  sprang  to  her  side  with  the  ardour  of  a sister, 


174 


THE  S V Y. 


and  kindly  drawing  her  arm  within  her  own,  led  the  way  to  a retired 
room.  The  movement  was  so  ingenuous,  so  considerate,  and  sa 
delicate,  that  even  Miss  Peyton  withheld  her  interference,  following 
the  youthful  pair  with  only  her  eyes  and  a smile  of  complacency. 
The  feeling  was  communicated  to  all  the  spectators,  and  they  dis- 
persed in  pursuit  of  their  usual  avocations.  Isabella  yielded  to  the 
gentle  influence  of  Frances  without  resistance;  and,  having  gained 
the  room  where  the  latter  conducted  her,  wept  in  silence  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  observant  and  soothing  girl,  until  Frances  thought 
her  tears  exceeded  the  emotion  natural  to  the  occasion.  The  sobs 
of  Miss  Singleton  for  a time  were  violent  and  uncontrollable,  until, 
with  an  evident  exertion,  she  yielded  to  a kind  observation  of  her 
companion,  and  succeeded  in  suppressing  her  tears.  Raising  her 
face  to  the  eyes  of  Frances,  she  rose,  while  a smile  of  beautiful 
radiance  passed  over  her  features ; and  making  a hasty  apology  for 
the  excess  of  her  emotion,  she  desired  to  be  conducted  to  the  room 
of  the  invalid. 

The  meeting  between  the  brother  and  sister  was  warm,  but,  by 
an  effort  on  the  part  of  the  lady,  more  composed  than  her  previous 
agitation  had  given  reason  to  expect.  Isabella  found  her  brother 
looking  better,  and  in  less  danger  than  her  sensitive  imagination  had 
led  her  to  suppose.  Her  spirits  rose  in  proportion ; from  despond- 
ency, she  passed  to  something  like  gaiety ; her  beautiful  eyes  sparkled 
with  renovated  brilliancy ; and  her  face  was  lighted  with  smiles  so 
fascinating,  that  Frances,  who,  in  compliance  with  her  earnest  en- 
treaties, had  accompanied  her  to  the  sick  chamber,  sat  gazing  on  a 
countenance  that  possessed  so  wonderful  variability,  impelled  by  a 
charm  that  was  beyond  her  control.  The  youth  had  thrown  an  ear- 
nest look  at  Frances,  as  soon  as  his  sister  raised  herself  from  his 
arms,  and  perhaps  it  was  the  first  glance  at  the  lovely  lineaments 
of  our  heroine,  when  the  gazer  turned  his  eyes  from  the  view  in  dis- 
appointment. He  seemed  bewildered,  rubbed  his  forehead  like  a 
man  awaking  from  a dream,  and  mused. 


THE  SPY. 


lib 


“ Where  is  Dunwoodie,  Isabella  ?”  he  said , ( the  excellent  fellow 
is  never  weary  of  kind  actions.  After  a day  of  such  service  as  that 
of  yesterday,  he  has  spent  the  night  in  bringing  me  a nurse,  whose 
presence  alone  is  able  to  raise  me  from  my  couch.” 

The  expression  of  the  lady’s  countenance  changed ; her  eye  roved 
round  the  apartment  with  a character  of  wildness  in  it  that  repelled 
the  anxious  Frances,  who  studied  her  movements  with  unabated 
interest. 

“ Dunwoodie  ! is  he  then  not  here  ? I thought  to  have  met  him 
by  the  side  of  my  brother’s  bed.” 

“ He  has  duties  that  require  his  presence  elsewhere : the  English 
are  said  to  be  out  by  the  way  of  the  Hudson,  and  they  give  us  light 
troops  but  little  rest : surely  nothing  else  could  have  kept  him  so 
long  from  a wounded  friend.  But,  Isabella,  the  meeting  has  been 
too  much  for  you;  you  tremble.” 

Isabella  made  no  reply : she  stretched  her  hand  towards  the  table 
which  held  the  nourishment  of  the  Captain,  and  the  attentive  Fran- 
ces comprehended  her  wishes  in  a moment.  A glass  of  water  in 
some  measure  revived  the  sister,  who  was  enabled  to  say  — 

“ Doubtless  it  is  his  duty.  ’Twas  said  above,  a royal  party  was 
moving  on  the  river ; though  I passed  the  troops  but  two  miles  from 
this  spot.”  The  latter  part  of  the  sentence  was  hardly  audible,  and 
it  was  spoken  more  in  the  manner  of  a soliloquy,  than  as  if  intended 
for  the  ears  of  her  companions. 

u On  the  march,  Isabella?”  eagerly  enquired  her  brother. 

“ No,  dismounted,  and  seemingly  at  rest,”  was  the  reply. 

The  wondering  dragoon  turned  his  gaze  on  the  countenance  of  his 
sister,  who  sat  with  her  eye  bent  on  the  carpet  in  unconscious  ab- 
sence, but  found  no  explanation.  His  look  was  changed  to  the  face 
of  Frances,  who,  startled  by  the  earnestness  of  his  expression,  arose, 
and  hastily  enquired  if  he  would  have  any  assistance. 

“ If  you  can  pardon  the  rudeness,”  said  the  wounded  officer,  mak- 


176 


THE  SPY. 


ing  a feeble  effort  to  raise  his  body,  “ I would  request  to  have  Cap 
tain  Lawton’s  company  for  a moment.” 

Frances  hastened  instantly  to  communicate  his  wish  to  that  gen- 
tleman; and;  impelled  by  an  interest  she  could  not  control;  she  re- 
turned again  to  her  seat  by  the  side  of  Miss  Singleton. 

“ Lawton/’  said  the  youth,  impatiently,  as  the  trooper  entered, 
“hear  you  from  the  Major?” 

The  eye  of  the  sister  was  now  bent  on  the  face  of  the  trooper, 
who  made  his  salutations  to  the  lady  with  ease,  blended  with  the 
frankness  of  a soldier. 

“ His  man  has  been  here  twice,”  he  said,  “ to  enquire  how  we 
fared  in  the  Lazaretto.” 

“ And  why  not  himself?” 

“That  is  a question  the  Major  can  answer  best;  but  you  know 
the  red-coats  are  abroad,  and  Dunwoodie  commands  in  the  county; 
these  English  must  be  looked  to.” 

“ True,”  said  Singleton,  slowly,  as  if  struck  with  the  other’s  rea- 
sons ; “ but  how  is  it  that  you  are  idle,  when  there  is  work  to  do  ?” 

“ My  sword  arm  is  not  in  the  best  condition,  and  Roanoke  has  but 
a shambling  gait  this  morning ; besides,  there  is  another  reason  I 
could  mention,  if  it  were  not  that  Miss  Wharton  would  never  forgive 
me” 

“ Speak,  I beg,  without  dread  of  my  displeasure,”  said  Frances, 
returning  the  good-humoured  smile  of  the  trooper,  with  the  archness 
natural  to  her  own  sweet  face. 

“The  odours  of  your  kitchen,  then,”  cried  Lawton  bluntly, 
“ forbid  my  quitting  the  domains,  until  I qualify  myself  to  speak 
with  more  certainty  concerning  the  fatness  of  the  land.” 

“ Oh  ! aunt  Jeanette  is  exerting  herself  to  do  credit  to  my  father’s 
hospitality,”  said  the  laughing  girl,  “ and  I am  a truant  from  her 
labours,  as  I shall  be  a stranger  to  her  favour,  unless  I proffer  my 
assistance.” 

Frances  withdrew  to  seek  her  aunt,  musing  deeply  on  the  character 


THE  SPY. 


1 11 


and  extreme  sensibility  of  the  new  acquaintance  chance  had  brought 
to  the  cottage. 

The  wounded  officer  followed  her  with  his  eyes,  as  she  moved> 
with  infantile  grace,  through  the  door  of  his  apartment,  and  as  she 
vanished  from  his  view,  he  observed  — 

u Such  an  aunt  and  niece  are  seldom  to  be  met  with,  Jack ; this 
seems  a fairy,  but  the  aunt  is  angelic.” 

“ You  are  doing  well,  I see;  your  enthusiasm  for  the  sex  holds 
its  own.” 

“ I should  be  ungrateful  as  well  as  insensible,  did  I not  bear  tes- 
timony to  the  loveliness  of  Miss  Peyton.” 

u A good  motherly  lady,  but  as  to  love,  that  is  a matter  of  taste. 
A few  years  younger,  with  deference  to  her  prudence  and  experience, 
would  accord  better  with  my  fancy.” 

“ She  must  be  under  twenty,”  said  the  other,  quickly. 

“ It  depends  on  the  way  you  count.  If  you  begin  at  the  heel  of 
life,  well ; but  if  you  reckon  downward,  as  is  most  common,  I think 
she  is  nearer  forty.” 

u You  have  mistaken  an  elder  sister  for  the  aunt,”  said  Isabella, 
laying  her  fair  hand  on  the  mouth  of  the  invalid ; u you  must  be 
silent ! your  feelings  are  beginning  to  affect  your  frame.” 

The  entrance  of  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  who,  in  some  alarm,  noticed  the 
increase  of  feverish  symptoms  in  his  patient,  enforced  this  mandate ; 
and  the  trooper  withdrew  to  pay  a visit  of  condolence  to  Roanoke, 
who  had  been  an  equal  sufferer  with  himself  in  their  last  night’s 
somerset.  To  his  great  joy,  his  man  pronounced  the  steed  to  be 
equally  convalescent  with  the  master;  and  Lawton  found  that  by 
dint  of  rubbing  the  animal’s  limbs,  several  hours  without  ceasing, 
he  was  enabled  to  place  his  feet  in  what  he  called  systematic 
motion.  Orders  were  accordingly  given  to  be  in  readiness  to  rejoin 
the  troop  at  the  Four  Corners,  as  soon  as  his  master  had  shared  in 
the  bounty  of  the  approaching  banquet. 

In  the  mean  time,  Henry  Wharton  entered  the  apartment  of 

8 * 


178 


THE  SPY. 


Wellinere,  and  by  his  sympathy  succeeded  in  restoring  the  Colonel 
to  his  own  good  graces.  The  latter  was  consequently  enabled  tc 
rise,  and  prepared  to  meet  a rival  of  whom  he  had  spoken  so  lightly, 
and,  as  the  result  had  proved,  with  so  little  reason.  Wharton  knew 
that  their  misfortune,  as  they  both  termed  their  defeat,  was  owing 
to  the  other’s  rashness;  but  he  forbore  to  speak  of  any  thing  except 
the  unfortunate  accident  which  had  deprived  the  English  of  their 
leader,  and  to  which  he  good-naturedly  ascribed  their  subsequent 
discomfiture. 

“ In  short,  Wharton/’  said  the  Colonel,  putting  one  leg  out  of  bed, 
“it  may  be  called  a combination  of  untoward  events;  your  own 
ungovernable  horse  prevented  my  orders  from  being  carried  to  the 
Major,  in  season  to  flank  the  rebels.” 

“ Y ery  true,”  replied  the  Captain,  kicking  a slipper  towards  the 
bed ; “ had  we  succeeded  in  getting  a few  good  fires  upon  them  in 
flank,  we  should  have  sent  these  brave  Virginians  to  the  right  about.” 

“ Ay ! and  that  in  double  quick  time,”  cried  the  Colonel,  making 
the  other  leg  follow  its  companion ; “ then  it  was  necessary  to  rout 
the  guides,  you  know,  and  the  movement  gave  them  the  best  possible 
opportunity  to  charge.” 

“ Yes,”  said  the  other,  sending  the  second  slipper  after  the  first ; 
“and  this  Major  Dunwoodie  never  overlooks  an  advantage.” 

“ I think  if  we  had  the  thing  to  do  over  again,”  continued  the 
Colonel,  raising  himself  on  his  feet,  “ we  might  alter  the  case  very 
materially,  though  the  chief  thing  the  rebels  have  now  to  boast  of  is 
my  capture  : they  were  repulsed,  you  saw,  in  their  attempt  to  drive 
us  from  the  wood.” 

“ At  least  they  would  have  been,  had  they  made  an  attack,”  said 
the  Captain,  throwing  the  rest  of  his  clothes  within  reach  of  the 
Colonel. 

“Why  that  is  the  same  thing,”  returned  Wellmere,  beginning  to 
dress  himself ; “ to  assume  such  an  attitude  as  to  intimidate  your 
enemy,  is  the  chief  art  of  war.” 


THE  Spy. 


179 


“ Doubtless,  then,  you  may  remember  in  one  of  their  charges  they 
were  completely  routed.” 

“True — true,”  cried  the  Colonel,  with  animation  : “ had  I been 
there  to  have  improved  that  advantage,  we  might  have  turned  the 
table  on  the  Yankees;”  saying  which,  he  displayed  still  greater  ani- 
mation in  completing  his  toilette ; and  he  was  soon  prepared  to  make 
his  appearance,  fully  restored  to  his  own  good  opinion,  and  fairly 
persuaded  that  his  capture  was  owing  to  casualties,  absolutely  beyond 
the  control  of  man. 

The  knowledge  that  Colonel  Wellmere  was  to  be  a guest  at  the 
table,  in  no  degree  diminished  the  preparations  which  were  already 
making  for  the  banquet ; and  Sarah,  after  receiving  the  compliments 
of  the  gentleman,  and  making  many  kind  enquiries  after  the  state 
of  his  wounds,  proceeded  in  person  to  lend  her  counsel  and  taste  to 
one  of  those  laboured  entertainments,  which,  at  that  day,  were  sc 
frequent  in  country  life,  and  which  are  not  entirely  banished  from 
our  domestic  economy  at  the  present  moment. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


I will  stand  to  and  feed, 

Although  my  last. 

Tempest 

The  savour  of  preparation  which  had  been  noticed  by  Captain  Law- 
ton,  began  to  increase  within  the  walls  of  the  cottage : certain  sweet- 
smelling  odours,  that  arose  from  the  subterranean  territories  of 
Caesar,  gave  to  the  trooper  the  most  pleasing  assurances  that  his 
olfactory  nerves,  which  on  such  occasions  were  as  acute  as  his  eyes 
on  others,  had  faithfully  performed  their  duty ; and  for  the  benefit 
of  enjoying  the  passing  sweets  as  they  arose,  the  dragoon  so  placed 
himself  at  a window  of  the  building,  that  not  a vapour  charged  with 
the  spices  of  the  east,  could  exhale  on  its  passage  to  the  clouds, 
without  first  giving  its  incense  to  his  nose.  Lawton,  however,  by 
no  means  indulged  himself  in  this  comfortable  arrangement,  without 
first  making  such  preparations  to  do  meet  honour  to  the  feast,  as  his 
scanty  wardrobe  would  allow.  The  uniform  of  his  corps  was  always 
a passport  to  the  best  tables,  and  this,  though  somewhat  tarnished 
by  faithful  service  and  unceremonious  usage,  was  properly  brushed 
and  decked  out  for  the  occasion.  His  head,  which  nature  had  orna- 
mented with  the  blackness  of  a crow,  now  shone  with  the  whiteness 
of  snow;  and  his  bony  hand,  that  so  well  became  the  sabre,  peered 
from  beneath  a ruffle  with  something  like  maiden  coyness.  The 
improvements  of  the  dragoon  went  no  further,  excepting  that  his 
boots  shone  with  more  than  holiday  splendour,  and  his  spurs  glit- 
tered in  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  became  the  pure  ore  of  which  they 
were  composed. 


THE  SPY. 


181 


Caesar  moved  through  the  apartments  with  a face  charged  with 
an  importance  exceeding  even  that  which  had  accompanied  him  in 
his  melancholy  task  of  the  morning.  The  black  had  early  retu:  ned 
from  the  errand  on  which  he  had  been  despatched  by  the  pedler, 
and,  obedient  to  the  commands  of  his  mistress,  promptly  appeared 
to  give  his  services,  where  his  allegiance  was  due ; so  serious,  indeed, 
was  his  duty  now  becoming,  that  it  was  only  at  odd  moments  he 
was  enabled  to  impart  to  his  sable  brother,  who  had  been  sent  in 
attendance  on  Miss  Singleton  to  the  Locusts,  any  portion  of  the 
wonderful  incidents  of  the  momentous  night  he  had  so  lately  passed. 
By  ingeniously  using,  however,  such  occasions  as  accidentally  offered, 
Caesar  communicated  so  many  of  the  heads  of  his  tale,  as  served  to 
open  the  eyes  of  his  visitor  to  their  fullest  width.  The  gusto  for 
the  marvellous  was  innate  in  these  sable  worthies;  and  Miss  Peyton 
found  it  necessary  to  interpose  her  authority,  in  order  to  postpone 
the  residue  of  the  history  to  a more  befitting  opportunity. 

“Ah ! Miss  Jinnett,”  said  Caesar,  shaking  his  head,  and  looking 
all  that  he  expressed,  “’twas  awful  to  see  Johnny  Birch  walk  on  a 
feet  when  he  lie  dead !” 

This  concluded  the  conversation ; though  the  black  promised  him- 
self the  satisfaction,  and  did  not  fail  to  enjoy  it,  of  having  many  a 
good  gossip  on  the  solemn  subject  at  a future  period. 

The  ghost  thus  happily  laid,  the  department  of  Miss  Peyton  flou- 
rished; and  by  the  time  the  afternoon’s  sun  had  travelled  a two 
hours’  journey  from  the  meridian,  the  formal  procession  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlour  commenced,  under  the  auspices  of  Caesar,  who 
led  the  van,  supporting  a turkey  on  the  palms  of  his  withered  hands, 
with  the  dexterity  of  a balance-master. 

Next  followed  the  servant  of  Captain  Lawton,  bearing,  as  he 
marched  stiffly,  and  walking  wide,  as  if  allowing  room  for  his  steed, 
a ham  of  true  Virginian  flavour ; a present  from  the  spinster’s  bro- 
ther in  Accomac.  The  supporter  of  this  savoury  dish  kept  his  eye 
on  his  trust  with  military  precision;  and  by  the  time  he  reached  his 


182 


THE  SPY. 


destination,  it  might  be  difficult  to  say  which  contained  the  mosil 
juice,  his  own  mouth  or  the  Accomac  bacon. 

Third  in  the  line  was  to  be  seen  the  valet  of  Colonel  Wellmere, 
who  carried  in  either  hand  chickens  fricasseed,  and  oyster  patties. 

After  him  marched  the  attendant  of  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  who  had  in- 
stinctively  seized  an  enormous  tureen,  as  most  resembling  matters  he 
understood,  and  followed  on  in  place,  until  the  steams  of  the  soup  sc 
completely  bedimmed  the  spectacles  he  wore,  as  a badge  of  office, 
that,  on  arriving  at  the  scene  of  action,  he  was  compelled  to  deposit 
his  freight  on  the  floor,  until,  by  removing  the  glasses,  he  could  see 
his  way  through  the  piles  of  reserved  china  and  plate-warmers. 

Next  followed  another  trooper,  whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  on 
Captain  Singleton ; and,  as  if  apportioning  his  appetite  to  the  feeble 
state  of  his  master,  he  had  contented  himself  with  conveying  a pair 
of  ducks,  roasted,  until  their  tempting  fragrance  began  to  make  him 
repent  his  having  so  lately  demolished  a breakfast  that  had  been 
provided  for  his  master’s  sister,  with  another  prepared  for  himself. 

The  white  boy,  who  belonged  to  the  house,  brought  up  the  rear, 
groaning  under  the  load  of  sundry  dishes  of  vegetables,  that  the 
cook,  by  way  of  climax,  had  unwittingly  heaped  on  him. 

But  this  was  far  from  all  of  the  preparations  for  that  day’s  feast 
Caesar  had  no  sooner  deposited  his  bird,  which,  but  the  week 
before,  had  been  flying  amongst  the  highlands  of  Dutchess,  little 
dreaming  of  so  soon  heading  such  a goodly  assemblage,  than  he 
turned  mechanically  on  his  heel,  and  took  up  his  line  of  march  again 
for  the  kitchen.  In  this  evolution  the  black  was  imitated  by  his 
companions  in  succession,  and  another  procession  to  the  parlour  fol- 
lowed in  the  same  order.  By  this  admirable  arrangement,  whole 
flocks  of  pigeons,  certain  bevies  of  quails,  shoals  of  flat-fish,  bass, 
and  sundry  woodcock,  found  their  way  into  the  presence  of  the 
company. 

A third  attack  brought  suitable  quantities  of  potatoes,  onions, 
beets,  cold-slaw,  rice,  and  all  the  other  minutiae  of  a goodly  dinner. 


THE  SPY. 


183 


The  board  now  fairly  groaned  with  American  profusio:  ; and 
Csesar,  glancing  his  eye  over  the  show  with  a most  approving  con- 
science, after  re-adjusting  every  dish  that  had  not  been  placed  on 
the  table  with  his  own  hands,  proceeded  to  acquaint  the  mistress 
of  the  revels  that  his  task  was  happily  accomplished. 

Some  half-hour  before  the  culinary  array  just  recorded  took  place, 
all  the  ladies  disappeared,  much  in  the  same  unaccountable  manner 
that  swallows  flee  the  approach  of  winter.  But  the  spring-time  of 
their  return  had  arrived,  and  the  whole  party  were  collected  in  an 
apartment  that,  in  consequence  of  its  containing  no  side-table,  and 
being  furnished  with  a chintz  coverlet  settee,  was  termed  a with- 
draw in  g-room. 

The  kind-hearted  spinster  had  deemed  the  occasion  worthy,  not 
only  of  extraordinary  preparations  in  the  culinary  department,  but 
had  seen  proper  to  deck  her  own  person  in  garments  suited  to  the 
guests  whom  it  was  now  her  happiness  to  entertain. 

On  her  head  Miss  Peyton  wore  a cap  of  exquisite  lawn,  which 
was  ornamented  in  front  with  a broad  border  of  lace,  that  spread 
from  the  face  in  such  a manner  as  to  admit  of  a display  of 
artificial  flowers,  clustered  in  a group  on  the  summit  of  her  fine 
forehead. 

The  colour  of  her  hair  was  lost  in  the  profusion  of  powder  with 
which  it  was  covered ; but  a slight  curling  of  the  extremities  in 
some  degree  relieved  the  formality  of  its  arrangement,  and  gave  a 
look  of  feminine  softness  to  the  features. 

Her  dress  was  a rich,  heavy  silk,  of  violet  colour,  cut  low  around 
the  bust,  with  a stomacher  of  the  same  material,  that  fitted  close  tc 
the  figure,  and  exhibited  the  form,  from  the  shoulders  to  the  waist, 
in  its  true  proportions.  Below,  the  dress  was  full,  and  sufficiently 
showed  that  parsimony  in  attire  was  not  a foible  of  the  day.  A 
small  loop  displayed  the  beauty  of  the  fabric  to  advantage,  and 
aided  in  giving  majesty  to  the  figure. 

The  tall  stature  of  the  lady  was  heightened  by  shoes  of  the  same 


184 


THE  SPY. 


material  with  the  dress,  whose  heels  added  more  than  an  inch  to  the 
liberality  of  nature. 

The  sleeves  were  short,  and  close  to  the  limb,  until  they  fell  off 
at  the  elbows  in  large  ruffles,  that  hung  in  rich  profusion  from  the 
arm  when  extended ; and  duplicates  and  triplicates  of  lawn,  trimmed 
with  Dresden  lace,  lent  their  aid  in  giving  delicacy  to  a hand  and 
arm  that  yet  retained  their  whiteness  and  symmetry.  A treble  row 
of  large  pearls  closely  encircled  her  throat ; and  a handkerchief  of 
lace  partially  concealed  that  part  of  the  person  that  the  silk  had  left 
exposed,  but  which  the  experience  of  forty  years  had  warned  Miss 
Peyton  should  now  be  veiled. 

Thus  attired,  and  standing  erect  with  the  lofty  grace  that  distin- 
guished the  manners  of  that  day,  the  maiden  would  have  looked  into 
nothingness  a bevy  of  modern  belles. 

The  taste  of  Sarah  had  kept  even  pace  with  the  decorations  of  her 
aunt;  and  a dress,  differing  in  no  respect  from  the  one  just  described, 
but  in  material  and  tints,  exhibited  her  imposing  form  to  equal  ad- 
vantage. The  satin  of  her  robe  was  of  a pale  bluish  colour.  Twenty 
years  did  not,  however,  require  the  screen  that  was  prudent  in  forty, 
and  nothing  but  an  envious  border  of  exquisite  lace  hid,  in  some 
measure,  what  the  satin  left  exposed  to  view.  The  upper  part  of 
the  bust,  and  the  fine  fall  of  the  shoulders,  were  blazing  in  all  their 
native  beauty,  and,  like  the  aunt,  the  throat  was  ornamented  by  a 
treble  row  of  pearls,  to  correspond  with  which  were  rings  of  the  same 
quality  in  the  ears.  The  head  was  without  a cap,  and  the  hair 
drawn  up  from  the  countenance  so  as  to  give  to  the  eye  all  the  love- 
liness of  a forehead  as  polished  as  marble  and  as  white  as  snow.  A 
few  straggling  curls  fell  gracefully  on  the  neck,  and  a bouquet  of 
artificial  flowers  was  also  placed,  like  a coronet,  over  her  brow. 

Miss  Singleton  had  resigned  her  brother  to  the  advice  of  Dr. 
Sitgreaves,  who  had  succeeded  in  getting  his  patient  into  a deep 
sleep,  after  quieting  certain  feverish  symptoms  that  followed  the 
agitation  of  the  interview.  The  sister  was  persuaded,  by  the 


THE  SPY. 


18r> 

observant  mistress  of  the  mansion,  to  make  one  of  the  party,  and  she 
sat  by  the  side  of  Sarah,  differing  but  little  in  appearance  from  that 
lady,  except  in  refusing  the  use  of  powder  on  her  raven  locks,  and 
that  her  unusually  high  forehead,  and  large,  brilliant  eyes,  gave  an 
expression  of  thoughtfulness  to  her  features,  that  was  possibly 
heightened  by  the  paleness  of  her  cheek. 

Last  and  least,  but  not  the  most  unlovely,  in  this  display  of  female 
charms,  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  Mr.  Wharton.  Frances,  we 
have  already  mentioned,  left  the  city  before  she  had  attained  to  the 
age  of  fashionable  womanhood.  A few  adventurous  spirits  were 
already  beginning  to  make  inroads  in  those  customs  which  had  so 
long  invaded  the  comforts  of  the  fair  sex  3 and  the  youthful  girl  had 
ventured  to  trust  her  beauty  to  the  height  which  nature  had 
bestowed.  This  was  but  little,  but  that  little  was  a masterpiece. 
Frances  several  times  had  determined,  in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
to  bestow  more  than  usual  pains  in  the  decoration  of  her  person. 
Each  time,  in  succession,  as  she  formed  this  resolution,  she  spent  a 
few  minutes  in  looking  earnestly  towards  the  north,  and  then  she  as 
invariably  changed  it. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  our  heroine  appeared  in  the  drawing-room, 
clothed  in  a robe  of  pale  blue  silk,  of  a cut  and  fashion  much  like 
that  worn  by  her  sister.  Her  hair  was  left  to  the  wild  curls 
of  nature,  its  exuberance  being  confined  to  the  crown  of  her  head  by 
a long,  low  comb,  made  of  light  tortoise-shell 3 a colour  barely  dis- 
tinguishable in  the  golden  hue  of  her  tresses.  Her  dress  was  with- 
out a plait  or  a wrinkle,  and  fitted  the  form  with  an  exactitude  that 
might  lead  one  to  imagine  the  arch  girl  more  than  suspected  the 
beauties  it  displayed.  A tucker  of  rich  Dresden  lace  softened  the 
contour  of  the  figure.  Her  head  was  without  ornament 3 but  around 
her  throat  was  a necklace  of  gold  clasped  in  front  with  a rich 
cornelian. 

Once,  and  once  only,  as  they  moved  towards  the  repast,  did  Law- 
ton  see  a foot  thrust  itself  from  beneath  the  folds  of  her  robe,  and 


186 


THE  SPY. 


exhibit  its  little  beauties  encased  in  a slipper  of  blue  silk,  clasped 
-•lose  to  the  shape  by  a buckle  of  brilliants.  The  trooper  caught 
niinself  sighing  as  he  thought,  though  it  was  good  for  nothing  in  the 
stirrup,  how  enchantingly  it  would  grace  a minuet. 

As  the  black  appeared  on  the  threshold  of  the  room,  making  a 
low  reverence,  which  has  been  interpreted  for  some  centuries  into 
u dinner  waits,”  Mr.  Wharton,  clad  in  a dress  of  drab,  bedecked 
with  enormous  buttons,  advanced  formally  to  Miss  Singleton,  and 
bending  his  powdered  head  nearly  to  the  level  of  the  hand  he  ex- 
tended, received  hers  in  return. 

Dr.  Sitgreaves  offered  the  same  homage  to  Miss  Peyton,  and  met 
with  equal  favour ; the  lady  first  pausing  to  draw  on  her  gloves. 

Colone  Wellmere  was  honoured  with  a smile  from  Sarah,  while 
perform. ng  a similar  duty;  and  Frances  gave  the  ends  of  her  taper 
fingers  to  Captain  Lawton  with  maiden  bashfulness. 

Much  time,  and  some  trouble,  were  expended  before  the  whole 
party  were,  to  the  great  joy  of  Caesar,  comfortably  arranged  around 
the  table,  with  proper  attention  to  all  points  of  etiquette  and  prece- 
dence. The  black  well  knew  the  viands  were  not  improving;  and 
though  abundantly  able  to  comprehend  the  disadvantage  of  eating  a 
cold  dinner,  it  greatly  exceeded  his  powers  of  philosophy  to  weigh 
all  the  latent  consequences  to  society  which  depend  on  social  order. 

For  the  first  ten  minutes  all  but  the  Captain  of  dragoons  found 
themselves  in  a situation  much  to  their  liking.  Even  Lawton  would 
have  been  perfectly  happy,  had  not  excess  of  civility  on  the  part  of 
his  host  and  Miss  Jeanette  Peyton,  kept  him  from  the  more  agree- 
able occupation  of  tasting  dishes  he  did  want,  in  order  to  decline 
those  he  did  not.  At  length,  however,  the  repast  was  fairly  com- 
menced, and  a devoted  application  to  the  viands  was  more  eloquent 
than  a thousand  words  in  favour  of  Dinah’s  skill. 

Next  came  drinking  with  the  ladies;  but  as  the  wine  was  excel- 
lent, and  the  glasses  ample,  the  trooper  bore  this  interruption  with 
consummate  good  nature.  Nay,  so  fearful  was  he  of  giving  offence. 


THE  SPY. 


187 


and  of  omitting  any  of  the  nicer  points  of  punctilio,  that  having 
commenced  this  courtesy  with  the  lady  who  sat  next  him,  he  perse- 
vered  until  not  one  of  his  fair  companions  could,  with  justice,  re- 
proach him  with  partiality  in  this  particular. 

Long  abstemiousness  from  any  thing  like  generous  wine  might 
plead  the  excuse  of  Captain  Lawton,  especially  when  exposed  to  so 
strong  a temptation  as  that  now  before  him.  Mr.  Wharton  had 
been  one  of  a set  of  politicians  in  New  York,  whose  principal  ex- 
ploits before  the  war  had  been  to  assemble,  and  pass  sage  opinions 
on  the  signs  of  the  times,  under  the  inspiration  of  certain  liquor 
made  from  a grape  that  grew  on  the  south  side  of  the  island  of  Ma- 
deira, and  which  found  its  way  into  the  colonies  of  North  America 
through  the  medium  of  the  West  Indies,  sojourning  awhile  in  the 
Western  Archipelago,  by  way  of  proving  the  virtues  of  the  climate. 
A large  supply  of  this  cordial  had  been  drawn  from  his  storehouse 
in  the  city,  and  some  of  it  now  sparkled  in  a bottle  before  the  Cap- 
tain, blushing  in  the  rays  of  the  sun,  which  were  passing  obliquely 
through  it,  like  amber. 

Though  the  meat  and  vegetables  had  made  their  entrance  with 
perfect  order  and  propriety,  their  exeunt  was  effected  much  in  the 
manner  of  a retreat  of  militia.  The  point  was  to  clear  the  board 
something  after  the  fabled  practice  of  the  harpies,  and  by  dint  of 
scrambling,  tossing,  breaking,  and  spilling,  the  remnants  of  the  over- 
flowing repast  disappeared.  And  now  another  series  of  processions 
commenced,  by  virtue  of  which,  a goodly  display  of  pastry,  with  its 
usual  accompaniments,  garnished  the  table. 

Mr.  Wharton  poured  out  a glass  of  wine  for  the  lady  who  sat  on 
his  right  hand,  and,  pushing  the  bottle  to  a guest,  said,  with  a low 
bow  — 

“We  are  to  be  honoured  with  a toast  from  Miss  Singleton.” 

Although  there  was  nothing  more  in  this  movement  than  occurred 
every  day  on  such  occasions,  yet  the  lady  trembled,  coloured,  and 
grew  pale  again,  seemingly  endeavouring  to  rally  her  thoughts,  until, 


188 


THE  SPY. 


by  her  agitation,  she  had  excited  the  interest  of  the  whole  party ; 
when,  by  an  effort,  and  in  a manner  as  if  she  had  striven  in  vain  to 
think  of  another,  Isabella  said,  faintly  — 
u Major  Dunwoodie.” 

The  health  was  drunk  cheerfully  by  all  but  Colonel  Wellmere, 
who  wet  his  lips,  and  drew  figures  on  the  table  with  some  of  the 
liquor  he  had  spilt. 

At  length  Colonel  Wellmere  broke  silence  by  saying  aloud  to 
Captain  Lawton  — 

u I suppose,  sir,  this  Mr.  Dunwoodie  will  receive  promotion  in  the 
rebel  army,  for  the  advantage  my  misfortune  gave  him  over  my  com- 
mand.^ 

The  trooper  had  supplied  the  wants  of  nature  to  his  perfect  satis- 
faction; and,  perhaps,  with  the  exception  of  Washington  and  his 
immediate  commander,  there  was  no  mortal  whose  displeasure  he 
regarded  a tittle.  First  helping  himself,  therefore,  to  a little  of  his 
favourite  bottle,  he  replied  with  admirable  coolness  — 

“ Colonel  Wellmere,  your  pardon;  Major  Dunwoodie  owes  his 
allegiance  to  the  confederated  states  of  North  America,  and  where 
he  owes  it,  he  pays  it.  Such  a man  is  no  rebel.  Promoted  I hope 
he  may  be,  both  because  he  deserves  it,  and  because  I am  next  in 
rank  in  the  corps;  and  I know  not  what  you  call  a misfortune,  unless 
you  deem  meeting  the  Virginia  horse  as  such.” 

“We  will  not  differ  about  terms,  sir,”  said  the  Colonel,  haughtily; 
u I spoke  as  duty  to  my  sovereign  prompted : but  do  you  not  call 
the  loss  of  a commander  a misfortune  to  a party  ?” 

u It  certainly  may  be  so,”  said  the  trooper,  with  emphasis. 
u Miss  Peyton,  will  you  favour  us  with  a toast  ?”  cried  the  master 
of  the  house,  anxious  to  stop  this  dialogue. 

The  lady  bowed  her  head  with  dignity,  as  she  named  “ General 
Montrose;”  and  the  long-absent  bloom  stole  lightly  over  her  fea- 
tures. 

u There  is  no  term  more  doubtful  than  that  word  misfortune,” 


THE  SPY. 


189 


said  the  surgeon,  regardless  of  the  nice  manoeuvres  of  the  host; 
“ some  deem  one  thing  a misfortune,  others  its  opposite : misfortune 
begets  misfortune  : life  is  a misfortune,  for  it  may  be  the  means  of 
enduring  misfortune ; and  death  is  a misfortune,  as  it  abridges  the 
enjoyments  of  life.” 

“ It  is  a misfortune  that  our  mess  has  no  such  wine  as  this,”  in- 
terrupted the  trooper. 

“We  will  pledge  you  a sentiment  in  it,  sir,  as  it  seems  to  suit 
your  taste,”  said  Mr.  Wharton. 

Lawton  filled  to  the  brim,  and  drank,  “A  speedy  peace,  or  a stir- 
ring war.” 

“ I drink  your  toast,  Captain  Lawton,  though  I greatly  distrust 
your  construction  of  activity,”  said  the  surgeon.  “ In  my  poor  judg- 
ment, cavalry  should  be  kept  in  the  rear,  to  improve  a victory,  and 
not  sent  in  front  to  gain  it.  Such  may  be  said  to  be  their  natural 
occupation,  if  the  term  can  be  used  in  reference  to  so  artificial  a body; 
for  all  history  shows  that  the  horse  have  done  most  when  properly 
held  in  reserve.” 

This  dissertation,  uttered  in  a sufficiently  didactic  manner,  was  a 
hint  that  Miss  Peyton  did  not  neglect.  She  arose  and  retired,  fol- 
lowed by  her  juniors. 

Nearly  at  the  same  moment,  Mr.  Wharton  and  his  son  made  an 
apology  for  their  absence,  which  was  required  on  account  of  the 
death  of  a near  neighbour,  and  withdrew. 

The  retreat  of  the  ladies  was  the  signal  for  the  appearance  of  the 
surgeon’s  segar,  which,  being  established  in  a corner  of  his  mouth, 
in  a certain  knowing  way,  caused  not  the  slightest  interruption  to 
his  discourse  — 

“ If  any  thing  can  sweeten  captivity  and  wounds,  it  must  be  the 
happiness  of  suffering  in  the  society  of  the  ladies  who  have  left  us,” 
gallantly  observed  the  Colonel,  as  he  resumed  his  seat  after  closing 
the  door. 

“ Sympathy  and  kindness  have  their  influence  on  the  human  sys- 


190 


THE  SPY. 


tern,”  returned  the  surgeon,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  segar,  witk 
the  tip  of  a little  finger,  in  the  manner  of  an  adept.  “ The  connec- 
tion is  intimate  between  the  moral  and  physical  feelings;  but  still, 
to  accomplish  a cure,  and  restore  nature  to  the  healthy  tone  it  has 
lost  from  disease  or  accident,  requires  more  than  can  flow  from  un- 
guided sympathies.  In  such  cases,  the  lights’ ’ — the  surgeon  acci- 
dentally caught  the  eye  of  the  trooper,  and  he  paused.  Taking  two 
or  three  hasty  puffs,  he  essayed  to  finish  the  sentence  — “ In  such 
cases,  the  knowledge  that  flows  from  the  lights — ” 

“You  were  saying,  sir — ■”  said  Colonel  Wellmere,  sipping  his 
wine  — 

“ The  purport  of  my  remark  went  to  say/’  continued  Sitgreaves, 
turning  his  back  on  Lawton,  “ that  a bread  poultice  would  not  set  a 
broken  arm.” 

“ More  is  the  pity,”  cried  the  trooper,  “ for  next  to  eating,  the 
nourishment  could  not  be  more  innocently  applied.” 

“To  you,  Colonel  Wellmere,”  said  the  surgeon,  “as  a man  of 
education,  I can  with  safety  appeal.”  The  Colonel  bowed.  “ You 
must  have  observed  the  dreadful  havoc  made  in  your  ranks  by  the 
men  who  were  led  by  this  • gentleman ;”  the  Colonel  looked  grave, 
again ; “ how,  when  blows  lighted  on  their  frames,  life  was  invariably 
extinguished,  beyond  all  hope  of  scientific  reparation  : how  certain 
yawning  wounds  were  inflicted,  that  must  set  at  defiance  the  art  of 
the  most  experienced  practitioner ; now,  sir,  to  you  I triumphantly 
appeal,  therefore,  to  know  whether  your  detachment  would  not  have 
been  as  effectually  defeated,  if  the  men  had  all  lost  a right  arm,  for 
instance,  as  if  they  had  all  lost  their  heads.” 

“ The  triumph  of'your  appeal  is  somewhat  hasty,  sir,”  said  Well- 
mere. 

“Is  the  cause  of  liberty  advanced  a step  by  such  injudicious 
harshness  in  the  field  ?”  continued  the  surgeon,  bent  on  the  favour- 
ite principle  of  his  life. 

“ I am  yet  to  learn  that  the  cause  of  liberty  is  in  any  manner  ad- 


THE  SPY. 


19  i 


danced  by  tbe  services  of  any  gentleman  in  the  rebel  army,”  rejoined 
the  Colonel. 

“ Not  liberty  ! Good  God,  for  what  then  are  we  contending?” 

“ Slavery,  sir ; yes,  even  slavery ; you  are  putting  the  tyranny  of 
a mob  on  the  throne  of  a kind  and  lenient  prince ; where  is  the  con- 
sistency of  your  boasted  liberty?” 

u Consistency !”  repeated  the  surgeon,  looking  about  him  a little 
wildly,  at  hearing  such  sweeping  charges  against  a cause  he  had  so 
long  thought  holy. 

“ Ay,  sir,  your  consistency.  Your  congress  of  sages  have  pub- 
lished a manifesto,  wherein  they  set  forth  the  equality  of  political 
rights.” 

“ 'T  is  true,  and  it  is  done  most  ably.” 

u I say  nothing  of  its  ability ; but  if  true,  why  not  set  your  slaves 
at  liberty?”  This  argument,  which  is  thought  by  most  of  the  Co- 
lonel's countrymen  a triumphant  answer  to  a thousand  eloquent 
facts,  lost  none  of  its  weight  by  the  manner  in  which  it  was  uttered. 

Every  American  feels  humbled  at  the  necessity  of  vindicating  his 
country  from  the  apparent  inconsistency  and  injustice  of  the  laws 
alluded  to.  His  feelings  are  much  like  those  of  an  honourable  man 
who  is  compelled  to  exonerate  himself  from  a disgraceful  charge, 
although  he  may  know  the  accusation  to  be  false.  At  the  bottom, 
Sitgreaves  had  much  good  sense,  and  thus  called  on,  he  took  up  the 
cudgels  of  argument  in  downright  earnest. 

u We  deem  it  a liberty  to  have  the  deciding  voice  in  the  councils 
by  which  we  are  governed.  We  think  it  a hardship  to  be  ruled  by 
the  king  of  a people  who  live  at  a distance  of  three  thousand  miles, 
and  who  cannot,  and  who  do  not,  feel  a single  political  interest  in 
common  with  ourselves.  I say  nothing  of  oppression;  the  child 
was  of  age,  and  was  entitled  to  the  privileges  of  majority.  In  such 
cases,  there  is  but  one  tribunal  to  which  to  appeal  for  a nation's 
rights — it  is  power,  and  we  now  make  the  appeal.” 

“ Such  doctrines  may  suit  your  present  purposes,”  said  Wellmere, 


L 92 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


with  a sneer ; u but  I apprehend  it  is  opposed  to  all  the  opinions 
and  practices  of  civilised  nations.” 

“ It  is  in  conformity  with  the  practices  of  all  nations,”  said  the 
surgeon,  returning  the  nod  and  smile  of  Lawton,  who  enjoyed  the 
good  sense  of  his  comrade  as  much  as  he  disliked  what  he  called 
i his  medical  talk/  “ Who  would  be  ruled  when  he  can  rule  ? the 
only  rational  ground  to  take  is,  that  every  community  has  a right  to 
govern  itself,  so  that  in  no  manner  it  violates  the  laws  of  God.” 

“ And  is  holding  your  fellow-creatures  in  bondage  in  conformity 
to  those  laws?”  asked  the  Colonel,  impressively. 

The  surgeon  took  another  glass,  and  hemming  once,  returned  to 
the  combat. 

“ Sir,”  said  he,  “ slavery  is  of  very  ancient  origin,  and  it  seems 
to  have  been  confined  to  no  particular  religion  or  form  of  govern- 
ment; every  nation  of  civilised  Europe  does,  or  has  held  their 
fellow-creatures  in  this  kind  of  duresse .” 

“ You  will  except  Great  Britain,  sir,”  cried  the  Colonel,  proudly. 
“No,  sir,”  continued  the  surgeon,  confidently,  feeling  that  he  was 
now  carrying  the  war  out  of  his  own  country ; “I  cannot  except 
Great  Britain.  It  was  her  children,  her  ships,  and  her  laws,  that 
first  introduced  the  practice  into  these  states ; and  on  her  institutions 
the  judgment  must  fall.  There  is  not  a foot  of  ground  belonging 
to  England,  in  which  a negro  would  be  useful,  that  has  not  its  slave. 
England  herself  has  none,  but  England  is  overflowing  with  physical 
force,  a part  of  which  she  is  obliged  to  maintain  in  the  shape 
of  paupers.  The  same  is  true  of  France,  and  most  other  European 
countries.  So  long  as  we  were  content  to  remain  colonies,  nothing 
was  said  of  our  system  of  domestic  slavery ; but  now,  when  we  are 
resolute  to  obtain  as  much  freedom  as  the  vicious  system  of  metro- 
politan rule  has  left  us,  that  which  is  England’s  gift  has  become  our 
reproach.  Will  your  master  liberate  the  slaves  of  his  subjects 
should  he  succeed  in  subduing  the  new  states,  or  will  he  condemn 
the  whites  to  the  same  servitude  as  that  in  which  he  has  been  so 


THE  SPY, 


193 


long  content  to  see  the  blacks  ? It  is  true,  we  continue  the  practice ; 
but  we  must  come  gradually  to  the  remedy,  or  create  an  evil  greater 
than  that  which  we  endure  at  present : doubtless,  as  we  advance, 
the  manumission  of  our  slaves  will  accompany  us,  until  happily 
these  fair  regions  shall  exist,  without  a single  image  of  the  Creator 
that  is  held  in  a state  which  disqualifies  him  to  judge  of  that 
Creator’s  goodness.” 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Doctor  Sitgreaves  spoke  forty  years 
ago,  and  Wellmere  was  unable  to  contradict  his  prophetic  assertion. 

Finding  the  subject  getting  to  be  knotty,  the  Englishman  retired 
to  the  apartment  in  which  the  ladies  had  assembled ; and,  seated  by 
the  side  of  Sarah,  he  found  a more  pleasing  employment  in  relating 
the  events  of  fashionable  life  in  the  metropolis,  and  in  recalling  the 
thousand  little  anecdotes  of  their  former  associates.  Miss  Peyton 
was  a pleased  listener,  as  she  dispensed  the  bounties  of  the  tea* 
table,  and  Sarah  frequently  bowed  her  blushing  countenance  to  her 
needle-work,  as  her  face  glowed  at  the  flattering  remarks  of  her 
companion 

The  dialogue  we  have  related  established  a perfect  truce  between 
the  surgeon  and  his  comrade ; and  the  former  having  paid  a visit  to 
Singleton,  they  took  their  leave  of  the  ladies,  and  mounted;  the 
former  to  visit  the  wounded  at  the  encampment,  and  the  latter  to 
rejoin  his  troop.  But  their  movements  were  arrested  at  the  gate 
by  an  occurrence  that  we  shall  relate  in  the  next  chapter. 

9 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


I see  no  more  those  white  locks  thinly  spread 
Round  the  bald  polish  of  that  honour’d  head : 

No  more  that  meek,  that  suppliant  look  in  prayer, 

Nor  that  pure  faith  that  gave  it  force,  are  there : 

But  he  is  blest,  and  I lament  no  more, 

A wise  good  man,  contented  to  be  poor 

Crabbe. 

We  have  already  said,  that  the  customs  of  America  leave  the  dead 
but  a short  time  in  the  sight  of  the  mourners ; and  the  necessity  of 
providing  for  his  own  safety  had  compelled  the  pedler  to  abridge 
even  this  brief  space.  In  the  confusion  and  agitation  produced  by 
the  events  we  have  recorded,  the  death  of  the  elder  Bircli  had 
occurred  unnoticed ; but  a sufficient  number  of  the  immediate  neigh- 
bours were  hastily  collected,  and  the  ordinary  rites  of  sepulture  were 
now  about  to  be  paid  to  the  deceased.  It  was  the  approach  of  this 
humble  procession  that  arrested  the  movements  of  the  trooper  and 
his  comrade.  Four  men  supported  the  body  on  a rude  bier ; and 
four  others  walked  in  advance,  ready  to  relieve  their  friends  from 
their  burden.  The  pedler  walked  next  the  coffin,  and  by  his  side 
moved  Katy  Haynes,  with  a most  determined  aspect  of  wo,  and  next 
to  the  mourners  came  Mr.  Wharton  and  the  English  Captain. 
Two  or  three  old  men  and  women,  with  a few  straggling  boys, 
brought  up  the  rear.  Captain  Lawton  sat  in  his  saddle,  in  rigid 
silence,  until  the  bearers  came  opposite  to  his  position,  and  then, 
for  the  first  time,  Harvey  raised  his  eyes  from  the  ground,  and  saw 
the  enemy  that  he  dreaded  so  near  him.  The  first  impulse  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


195 


pettier  was  certainly  flight;  but  recovering  his  recollection,  he  fixed 
his  eye  on  the  coffin  of  his  parent,  and  passed  the  dragoon  with  a 
firm  step  but  swelling  heart.  The  trooper  slowly  lifted  his  cap,  and 
continued  uncovered  until  Mr.  Wharton  and  his  son  had  moved  by, 
when,  accompanied  by  the  surgeon,  he  rode  leisurely  in  the  rear, 
maintaining  an  inflexible  silence. 

Caesar  emerged  from  the  cellar  kitchen  of  the  cottage,  and  with  a 
face  of  settled  solemnity,  added  himself  to  the  number  of  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  funeral,  though  with  an  humble  mien,  and  at  a most 
respectful  distance  from  the  horsemen.  The  old  negro  had  placed 
around  his  arm,  a little  above  the  elbow,  a napkin  of  unsullied 
whiteness,  it  being  the  only  time  since  his  departure  from  the  city 
that  he  had  enjoyed  an  opportunity  of  exhibiting  himself  in  the 
garniture  of  servile  mourning.  He  was  a great  lover  of  propriety, 
and  had  been  a little  stimulated  to  this  display  by  a desire  to  show 
his  sable  friend  from  Georgia  all  the  decencies  of  a New  York  fune- 
ral ; and  the  ebullition  of  his  zeal  went  off  very  well,  producing  no 
other  result  than  a mild  lecture  from  Miss  Peyton  at  his  return,  on 
the  fitness  of  things.  The  attendance  of  the  black  was  thought  well 
enough  in  itself ; but  the  napkin  was  deemed  a superfluous  exhibi- 
tion of  ceremony,  at  the  funeral  of  a man  who  had  performed  all  the 
menial  offices  in  his  own  person. 

The  grave-yard  was  an  enclosure  on  the  grounds  of  Mr.  Wharton, 
which  had  been  fenced  with  stone,  and  set  apart  for  the  purpose,  by 
that  gentleman,  some  years  before.  It  was  not,  however,  intended 
as  a burial-place  for  any  of  his  own  family.  Until  the  fire,  which 
raged  as  the  British  troops  took  possession  of  New  York,  had  laid 
Trinity  in  ashes,  a goodly  gilded  tablet  on  its  walls  proclaimed  the 
virtues  of  his  deceased  parents,  and  beneath  a flag  of  marble,  in  one 
of  the  aisles  of  the  church,  their  bones  were  left  to  moulder  in  aris- 
tocratical  repose.  Captain  Lawton  made  a movement  as  if  he  was 
disposed  to  follow  the  procession,  when  it  left  the  highway,  to  enter 
the  field  which  contained  the  graves  of  the  humble  dead,  but  he  was 


196 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


recalled  to  recollection  by  a hint  from  his  companion  that  he  was 
taking  the  wrong  road. 

“ Of  all  the  various  methods  which  have  been  adopted  by  man 
for  the  disposal  of  his  earthly  remains;  which  do  you  prefer,  Captain 
Lawton  ?”  said  the  surgeon,  as  they  separated  from  the  little  pro- 
cession : “ in  some  countries  the  body  is  exposed  to  be  devoured  by 
wild  beasts ; in  others  it  is  suspended  in  the  air  to  exhale  its  sub- 
stance in  the  manner  of  decomposition ; in  other  regions  it  is  con- 
sumed on  the  funeral  pile,  and,  again,  it  is  inhumed  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth ; every  people  have  their  own  particular  fashion,  and  to 
which  do  you  give  the  preference  ?” 

“ All  are  agreeable,”  said  the  trooper,  following  the  group  they 
had  left  with  his  eyes ; “ though  the  speediest  interments  give  the 
cleanest  fields.  Of  which  are  you  an  admirer  ?” 

“The  last,  as  practised  by  ourselves,  for  the  other  three  are 
destructive  of  all  the  opportunities  for  dissection;  whereas,  in  the 
last,  the  coffin  can  lie  in  peaceful  decency,  while  the  remains  are 
made  to  subserve  the  useful  purposes  of  science.  Ah ! Captain 
Lawton,  I enjoy  comparatively  but  few  opportunities  of  such  a 
nature,  to  what  I expected  on  entering  the  army.” 

“ To  what  may  these  pleasures  numerically  amount  in  a year  ?” 
said  the  Captain,  withdrawing  his  gaze  from  the  grave-yard. 

“Within  a dozen,  upon  my  honour;  my  best  picking  is  when  the 
corps  is  detached ; for  when  we  are  with  the  main  army,  there  are 
so  many  boys  to  be  satisfied,  that  I seldom  get  a good  subject. 
Those  youngsters  are  as  wasteful  as  prodigals,  and  as  greedy  as  vul- 
tures.” 

“ A dozen !”  echoed  the  trooper,  in  surprise ; “ why  I furnish 
you  that  number  with  my  own  hands.” 

“Ah!  JacK,”  returned  the  doctor,  approaching  the  subject  with 
great  tenderness  of  manner,  “ it  is  seldom  I can  do  any  thing  with 
your  patients;  you  disfigure  them  wofully;  believe  me,  John,  when 
I tell  you  as  a friend  that  your  system  is  all  wrong ; you  unneces- 


THE  SPY. 


197 


sarily  destroy  life,  and  then  yon  injure  the  body  so  that  it  is  unfit 
for  the  only  use  that  can  be  made  of  a dead  man.” 

The  trooper  maintained  a silence,  which  he  thought  would  be  the 
most  probable  means  of  preserving  peace  between  them;  and  the 
surgeon,  turning  his  head  from  taking  a last  look  at  the  burial,  as 
they  rode  round  the  foot  of  the  hill  that  shut  the  valley  from  their 
sight,  continued  with  a suppressed  sigh  — 

“ One  might  get  a natural  death  from  that  grave-yard  to-night,  if 
there  was  but  time  and  opportunity ! the  patient  must  be  the  father 
of  the  lady  we  saw  this  morning.” 

“ The  petticoat  doctor ! — she  with  the  Aurora  Borealis  com- 
plexion,” said  the  trooper,  with  a smile,  that  began  to  cause  uneasi- 
ness to  his  companion;  “but  the  lady  was  not  the  gentleman's 
daughter,  only  his  medico-petticoat  attendant;  and  the  Harvey, 
whose  name  was  made  to  rhyme  with  every  word  in  her  song,  is  the 
renowned  pedler-spy.” 

“ What ! he  who  unhorsed  you  ?” 

“No  man  ever  unhorsed  me,  Dr.  Sitgreaves,”  said  the  dragoon, 
gravely ; “ I fell  by  a mischance  of  Boanoke ; rider  and  beast  kissed 
the  earth  together.” 

“ A warm  embrace,  from  the  love  spots  it  left  on  your  cuticle ; 
'tis  a thousand  pities  that  you  cannot  find  where  the  tattling  rascal 
lies  hid.” 

“ He  followed  his  father's  body.” 

“ And  you  let  him  pass !”  cried  the  surgeon,  checking  his  horse ; 
“let  us  return  immediately  and  take  him;  to-morrow  you  shall  have 
him  hanged,  Jack,  — and,  damn  him,  I 'll  dissect  him  !” 

“ Softly,  softly,  my  dear  Archibald,  would  you  arrest  a man  while 
paying  the  last  offices  to  a dead  father  ? Leave  him  to  me,  and  J 
pledge  myself  he  shall  have  justice.” 

“ The  doctor  muttered  his  dissatisfaction  at  any  postponement  of 
vengeance,  but  he  was  compelled  to  acquiesce,  from  a regard  to  hit 
reputation  for  propriety;  and  they  continued  their  ride  to  the  quar 


198 


THE  SPY. 


ters  of  the  corps,  engaged  in  various  discussions  concerning  the  wel- 
fare of  the  human  body. 

Birch  supported  the  grave  and  collected  manner,  that  was  thought 
becoming  in  a male  mourner  on  such  occasions,  and  to  Katy  was  left 
the  part  of  exhibiting  the  tenderness  of  the  softer  sex.  There  are 
some  people,  whose  feelings  are  of  such  a nature,  that  they  cannot 
weep  unless  it  be  in  proper  company,  and  the  spinster  was  a good 
deal  addicted  to  this  congregational  virtue.  After  casting  her  eyes 
round  the  small  assemblage,  the  housekeeper  found  the  countenances 
of  the  few  females,  who  were  present,  fixed  on  her  in  solemn  expec- 
tation, and  the  effect  was  instantaneous ; the  maiden  really  wept,  and 
she  gained  no  inconsiderable  sympathy,  and  some  reputation  for  a 
tender  heart,  from  the  spectators.  The  muscles  of  the  pedler’s  face 
were  seen  to  move,  and  as  the  first  clod  of  earth  fell  on  the  tenement 
of  his  father,  sending  up  that  dull,  hollow  sound,  that  speaks  so  elo- 
quently the  mortality  of  man,  his  whole  frame  was  for  an  instant 
convulsed.  He  bent  his  body  down,  as  if  in  pain,  his  fingers  worked 
while  the  hands  hung  lifeless  by  his  side,  and  there  was  an  expres- 
sion in  his  countenance  that  seemed  to  announce  a writhing  of  the 
soul;  but  it  was  not  unresisted,  and  it  was  transient.  He  stood 
erect,  drew  a long  breath,  and  looked  around  him  with  an  elevated 
face,  that  even  seemed  to  smile  with  a consciousness  of  having  ob 
tained  the  mastery.  The  grave  was  soon  filled;  a rough  stone, 
placed  at  either  extremity,  marked  its  position,  and  the  turf,  whose 
faded  vegetation  was  adapted  to  the  fortunes  of  the  deceased,  covered 
the  little  hillock  with  the  last  office  of  seemliness.  This  office  ended, 
the  neighbours,  who  had  officiously  pressed  forward  to  offer  their 
services  in  performing  this  solemn  duty,  paused,  and  lifting  their 
hats,  stood  looking  towards  the  mourner,  who  now  felt  himself  to 
be  really  alone  in  the  world.  Uncovering  his  head  also,  the  pedler 
hesitated  a moment,  to  gather  energy,  and  spoke. 

“ My  friends  and  neighbours,”  he  said,  “ I thank  you  for  assisting 
me  to  bury  my  dead  out  of  my  sight.” 


THE  SPY. 


199 


A solemn  pause  succeeded  the  customary  address,  and  the  group 
dispersed  in  silence,  some  few  walking  with  the  mourners  back  to 
their  own  habitation,  but  respectfully  leaving  them  at  its  entrance. 
The  pedler  and  Katy  were  followed  into  the  building  by  one  man, 
however,  who  was  well  known  to  the  surrounding  country  by  the 
significant  term  of  “a  speculator.”  Katy  saw  him  enter,  with  a 
heart  that  palpitated  with  dreadful  forebodings,  but  Harvey  civilly 
handed  him  a chair,  and  evidently  was  prepared  for  the  visit. 

The  pedler  went  to  the  door,  and,  taking  a cautious  glance  about 
the  valley,  quickly  returned,  and  commenced  the  following  dialogue — 
u The  sun  has  just  left  the  top  of  the  eastern  hill ; my  time  presses 
me : here  is  the  deed  for  the  house  and  lot ; every  thing  is  done 
according  to  law.” 

The  other  took  the  paper,  and  conned  its  contents  with  a delibe- 
ration that  proceeded  partly  from  his  caution,  and  partly  from  the 
unlucky  circumstance  of  his  education  having  been  much  neglected 
when  a youth.  The  time  occupied  in  this  tedious  examination  was 
employed  by  Harvey  in  gathering  together  certain  articles,  which  he 
intended  to  include  in  the  stores  that  were  to  leave  the  habitation 
with  himself.  Katy  had  already  enquired  of  the  pedler,  whether 
the  deceased  had  left  a will ; and  she  saw  the  Bible  placed  in  the 
bottom  of  a new  pack,  which  she  had  made  for  his  accommodation, 
with  a most  stoical  indifference ; but  as  the  six  silver  spoons  were 
laid  carefully  by  its  side,  a sudden  twinge  of  her  conscience  objected 
to  such  a palpable  waste  of  property,  and  she  broke  silence. 
u When  you  marry,  Harvey,  you  may  miss  those  spoons.” 

“ I never  shall  marry.” 

u Well,  if  you  don’t,  there’s  no  occasion  to  make  rash  promises, 
even  to  yourself.  One  never  knows  what  one  may  do,  in  such  a 
ease.  I should  like  to  know,  of  what  use  so  many  spoons  can  be  to 
a single  man : for  my  part,  I think  it  is  a duty  for  every  man  who 
is  well  provided,  to  have  a wife  and  family  to  maintain.” 

At  the  time  when  Katy  expressed  this  sentiment,  the  fortune  of 


200 


THE  SPY. 


women  in  her  class  of  life  consisted  of  a cow,  a bed,  the  labours  of 
their  own  hands  in  the  shape  of  divers  pillow-cases,  blankets,  and 
sheets,  with,  where  fortune  was  unusually  kind,  a half-dozen  silver 
spoons.  The  spinster  herself  had  obtained  all  the  other  necessaries 
by  her  own  industry  and  prudence,  and  it  can  easily  be  imagined 
that  she  saw  the  articles  she  had  long  counted  her  own,  vanish  in 
the  enormous  pack,  with  a dissatisfaction  that  was  in  no  degree  di- 
minished by  the  declaration  that  had  preceded  the  act.  Harvey, 
however,  disregarded  her  opinions  and  feelings,  and  continued  hid 
employment  of  filling  the  pack,  which  soon  grew  to  something  like 
the  ordinary  size  of  the  pedler's  burden. 

“I'm  rather  timersome  about  this  conveyance/'  said  the  pur- 
chaser, having  at  length  waded  through  the  covenants  of  the  deed. 

“Why  so?” 

“ I 'm  afraid  it  won't  stand  good  in  law.  I know  that  two  of  the 
neighbours  leave  home  to-morrow  morning,  to  have  the  place  entered 
for  confistication ; and  if  I should  give  forty  pounds,  and  lose  it  all, 
't  would  be  a dead  pull-back  to  me.” 

“ They  can  only  take  my  right,”  said  the  pedler ; “ pay  me  two 
hundred  dollars,  and  the  house  is  yours  : you  are  a well-known 
Whig,  and  you  at  least  they  won't  trouble.”  As  Harvey  spoke, 
there  was  a strange  bitterness  of  manner,  mingled  with  the  shrewd 
care  he  expressed  concerning  the  sale  of  his  property. 

“ Say  one  hundred,  and  it  is  a bargain,”  returned  the  man,  with 
a grin  that  he  meant  for  a good-natured  smile. 

“A  bargain !”  echoed  the  pedler,  in  surprise ; “ I thought  the 
bargain  already  made. 

“Nothing  is  a bargain,”  said  the  purchaser,  with  a chuckle, 
“ until  papers  are  delivered,  and  the  money  paid  in  hand.” 

“You  have  the  paper.” 

“Ay,  and  will  keep  it,  if  you  will  excuse  the  money ; come,  say 
one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  I won't  be  hard;  here  — here  is  just 
die  money.” 


THE  SPY. 


201 


The  pedler  looked  from  the  window,  and  saw  with  dismay  that 
the  evening  was  fast  advancing,  and  knew  well  that  he  endangered 
his  life  by  remaining  in  the  dwelling  after  dark  ; yet  he  could  not 
tolerate  the  idea  of  being  defrauded  in  this  manner,  in  a bargain  that 
had  already  been  fairly  made ; he  hesitated. 

“Well,”  said  the  purchaser,  rising,  “mayhap  you  can  find 
another  man  to  trade  with  between  this  and  morning ; but,  if  you 
don’t,  your  title  won’t  be  worth  much  afterwards.” 

“ Take  it,  Harvey,”  said  Katy,  who  felt  it  impossible  to  resist  a 
tender  like  the  one  before  her;  for  the  purchase-money  was  in 
English  guineas.  Her  voice  roused  the  pedler,  and  a new  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him. 

“ I agree  to  the  price,”  he  said ; and,  turning  to  the  spinster,  he 
placed  part  of  the  money  in  her  hand,  as  he  continued  — “ had  I 
other  means  to  pay  you,  I would  have  lost  all,  rather  than  have  suf- 
fered myself  to  be  defrauded  of  part.” 

“You  may  lose  all  yet,”  muttered  the  stranger,  with  a sneer,  as 
he  rose  and  left  the  building. 

“ Yes,”  said  Katy,  following  him  with  her  eyes;  “ he  knows  your 
failing,  Harvey ; he  thinks  with  me,  now  the  old  gentleman  is  gone, 
you  will  want  a careful  body  to  take  care  of  your  concerns.” 

The  pedler  was  busied  in  making  arrangements  for  his  departure, 
and  he  took  no  notice  of  this  insinuation,  while  the  spinster  returned 
again  to  the  attack.  She  had  lived  so  many  years  in  expectation  of 
a termination  to  her  hopes,  so  different  from  that  which  now  seemed 
likely  to  occur,  that  the  idea  of  separation  began  to  give  her  more 
uneasiness  than  she  had  thought  herself  capable  of  feeling,  about  a 
man  so  destitute  and  friendless. 

“ Have  you  another  house  to  go  to  ?”  enquired  Katy. 

“ Providence  will  provide  me  with  a home.” 

“Yes,”  said  the  housekeeper;  “but  maybe  ’twill  not  be  to  yoir 
liking.” 

“ The  poor  must  not  be  difficult.” 

9* 


*202 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


(( I ’in  sure  I ’m  any  thing  but  a difficult  body/'  cried  the  spinster, 
very  hastily;  “but  I love  to  see  things  becoming,  and  in  their 
places;  yet  I wouldn’t  be  hard  to  persuade  to  leave  this  place 
myself.  I can’t  say  I altogether  like  the  ways  of  the  people 
hereabouts.” 

“ The  valley  is  lovely,”  said  the  pedler,  with  fervour,  “ and  the 
people  like  all  the  race  of  man.  But  to  me  it  matters  nothing ; all 
places  are  now  alike,  and  all  faces  equally  strange ;”  as  he  spoke  he 
dropped  the  article  he  was  packing  from  his  hand,  and  seated  him- 
self on  a chest,  with  a look  of  vacant  misery. 

“ Not  so,  not  so,”  said  Katy,  shoving  her  chair  nearer  to  the  place 
where  the  pedler  sat ; “ not  so,  Harvey,  you  must  know  me  at  least ; 
my  face  cannot  be  strange  to  you,  certainly.” 

Birch  turned  his  eyes  slowly  on  her  countenance,  which  exhibited 
more  of  feeling,  and  less  of  self,  than  he  had  ever  seen  there  before  : 
he  took  her  hand  kindly,  and  his  own  features  lost  some  of  their 
painful  expression,  as  he  said  — 

“ Yes,  good  woman,  you,  at  least,  are  not  a stranger  to  me;  you 
may  do  me  partial  justice;  when  others  revile  me,  possibly  your 
feelings  may  lead  you  to  say  something  in  my  defence.” 

“ That  I will ; that  I would !”  said  Katy,  eagerly ; “ I will 
defend  you,  Harvey,  to  the  last  drop ; let  me  hear  them  that  dare 
revile  you!  you  say  true,  Harvey,  I am  partial  and  just  to  you; 
what  if  you  do  like  the  king  ? I have  often  heard  it  said  he  was  at 
the  bottom  a good  man ; but  there ’s  no  religion  in  the  old  country, 
for  everybody  allows  the  ministers  are  desperate  bad !” 

The  pedler  paced  the  floor  in  evident  distress  of  mind ; his  eye 
had  a look  of  wildness  that  Katy  had  never  witnessed  before, 
and  his  step  was  measured,  with  a dignity  that  appalled  the  house- 
keeper. 

“ While  my  father  lived,”  murmured  Harvey,  unable  to  smother 
his  feelings,  “ there  was  one  who  read  my  heart ; and  oh  ! what  a 
consolation  to  return  from  my  secret  marches  of  danger,  and  the 


THE  SPY. 


205 

insults  and  wrongs  that  I suffered,  to  receive  his  blessing  and  his 
praise;  but  he  is  gone/’  he  continued,  stopping  and  gazing  wildly 
towards  the  corner  that  used  to  hold  the  figure  of  his  parent,  “ and 
who  is  there  to  do  me  justice  V 1 
“ Why,  Harvey  ! Harvey  !” 

“ Yes,  there  is  one  who  will,  who  must  know  me  before  I die ! 
Oh ! it  is  dreadful  to  die,  and  leave  such  a name  behind  me.” 

“ Don’t  talk  of  dying,  Harvey,”  said  the  spinster,  glancing  her 
eve  around  the  room,  and  pushing  the  wood  in  the  fire  to  obtain  a 
light  from  the  blaze. 

The  ebullition  of  feeling  in  the  pedler  was  over.  It  had  been 
excited  by  the  events  of  the  past  day,  and  a vivid  perception  of  his 
sufferings.  It  was  not  long,  however,  that  passion  maintained  an 
ascendency  over  the  reason  of  this  singular  man;  and  perceiving 
that  the  night  had  already  thrown  an  obscurity  around  objects  with- 
out doors,  he  hastily  threw  his  pack  over  his  shoulders,  and  taking 
Katy  kindly  by  the  hand,  in  leave-taking  — 

“It  is  painful  to  part  with  even  you,  good  woman,”  he  said; 
“ but  the  hour  has  come,  and  I must  go.  What  is  left  in  the  house 
is  yours ; to  me  it  could  be  of  no  use,  and  it  may  serve  to  make  you 
more  comfortable.  Farewell  — we  shall  meet  hereafter.” 

“ In  the  regions  of  darkness,”  cried  a voice  that  caused  the  pedlej 
to  sink  on  the  chest  from  which  he  had  risen  in  despair. 

“What ! another  pack,  Mr.  Birch,  and  so  well  stuffed  so  soon !” 

“ Have  you  not  done  evil  enough  ?”  cried  the  pedler,  regaining 
his  firmness,  and  springing  on  his  feet  with  energy ; “ is  it  not  enough 
to  harass  the  last  moments  of  a dying  man ; to  impoverish  me ; what 
more  would  you  have  ?” 

“ Your  bl<x>d,”  said  the  Skinner,  with  cool  malignity. 

“And  for  money,”  cried  Harvey,  bitterly;  “like  the  ancient 
Judas,  you  would  grow  rich  with  the  price  of  blood  !” 

“ Ay  ! and  a fair  price  it  is,  my  gentleman ; fifty  guireas ; nearly 
the  weight  of  that  scare-crow  carcass  of  yours  in  gold.” 


204 


THE  S r Y . 


“ Here,”  said  Katy,  promptly ; “ here  are  fifteen  guineas,  and 
these  drawers,  and  this  bed,  are  all  mine;  if  you  will  give  Harvey 
but  one  hour’s  start  from  the  door,  they  shall  be  yours.” 

“ One  hour  ?”  said  the  Skinner,  showing  his  teeth,  and  looking 
with  a longing  eye  at  the  money. 

“But  a single  hour;  here,  take  the  money.” 

“ Hold  !”  cried  Harvey;  “put  no  faith  in  the  miscreant.” 

“ She  may  do  what  she  pleases  with  her  faith,”  said  the  Skinner, 
with  malignant  pleasure  ; “ but  I have  the  money  in  good  keeping ; 
as  for  you,  Mr.  Birch,  we  will  bear  your  insolence,  for  the  fifty  gui- 
neas that  are  to  pay  for  your  gallows.” 

“Go  on,”  said  the  pedler,  proudly;  “take  me  to  Major  Dun- 
woodie ; he,  at  least,  may  be  kind,  although  he  may  be  just.” 

“ I can  do  better  than  by  marching  so  far  in  such  disgraceful 
company ; this  Mr.  Dunwoodie  has  let  one  or  two  Tories  go  at  large ; 
but  the  troop  of  Captain  Lawton  is  quartered  some  half  mile  nearer, 
and  his  receipt  will  get  me  the  reward  as  soon  as  his  Major’s;  how 
relish  you  the  idea  of  supping  with  Captain  Lawton,  this  evening, 
Mr.  Birch  ?” 

“ Give  me  my  money,  or  set  Harvey  free,”  cried  the  spinster  in 
alarm. 

“Your  bribe  was  not  enough,  good  woman,  unless  there  is  money 
in  this  bed  :”  thrusting  his  bayonet  through  the  ticking,  and  ripping 
it  for  some  distance,  he  took  a malicious  satisfaction  in  scattering  its 
contents  about  the  room. 

“ If,”  cried  the  housekeeper,  losing  sight  of  her  personal  danger, 
in  care  for  her  newly-acquired  property,  “ there  is  law  in  the  land, 
I will  be  righted !” 

“ The  law  of  the  neutral  ground  is  the  law  of  the  strongest ; but 
your  tongue  is  not  as  long  as  my  bayonet;  you  had,  therefore,  best 
not  set  them  at  loggerheads,  or  you  might  be  the  loser.” 

A figure  stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  door,  as  if  afraid  to  be  seen 
in  the  group  of  Skinners;  but  a blaze  of  light,  raised  by  some  arti- 


THE  SPY. 


205 


cles  thrown  in  the  fire  by  his  persecutors,  showed  the  pedler  the  face 
of  the  purchaser  of  his  little  domain.  Occasionally  there  was  some 
whispering  between  this  man  and  the  Skinner  nearest  him,  that  in- 
duced Harvey  to  suspect  he  had  been  the  dupe  of  a contrivance  in 
which  that  wretch  had  participated.  It  was,  however,  too  late  to 
repine ; and  he  followed  the  party  from  the  house  with  a firm  and 
collected  tread,  as  if  marching  to  a triumph,  and  not  to  a gallows. 
In  passing  through  the  yard,  the  leader  of  the  band  fell  over  a billet 
of  wood,  and  received  a momentary  hurt  from  the  fall : exasperated 
at  the  incident,  the  fellow  sprang  on  his  feet,  filling  the  air  with 
execrations. 

“ The  curse  of  Heaven  light  on  the  log !”  he  exclaimed ; “ the 
night  is  too  dark  for  us  to  move  in : throw  that  brand  of  fire  in  yon 
pile  of  tow,  to  light  up  the  scene.” 

“Hold!”  roared  the  speculator ; “ you  T1  fire  the  house.” 

“And  see  the  farther,”  said  the  other,  hurling  the  brand  in  the 
midst  of  the  combustibles.  In  an  instant  the  building  was  in  flames. 
“ Come  on ; let  us  move  towards  the  heights  while  we  have  light  to 
pick  our  road.” 

“ Villain  !”  cried  the  exasperated  purchaser,  “ is  this  your  friend- 
ship — this  my  reward  for  kidnapping  the  pedler  ?” 

“’T  would  be  wise  to  move  more  from  the  light,  if  you  mean  to 
entertain  us  with  abuse,  or  we  may  see  too  well  to  miss  our  mark,” 
cried  the  leader  of  the  gang.  The  next  instant  he  was  as  good  as 
his  threat,  but  happily  missed  the  terrified  speculator  and  equally 
appalled  spinster,  who  saw  herself  again  reduced  from  comparative 
wealth  to  poverty,  by  the  blow.  Prudence  dictated  to  the  pair  a 
speedy  retreat:  and  the  next  morning,  the  only  remains  of  the 
dwelling  of  the  pedler  was  the  huge  chimney  we  have  already  men- 
tioned 


CHAPTEK  XV. 


Trifles,  light  as  air, 

Are  to  the  jealous  confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  from  holy  writ. 

Moor  of  Venice . 

The  weather,  which  had  been  mild  and  clear  since  the  storm,  now 
changed  with  the  suddenness  of  the  American  climate.  Towards 
evening  the  cold  blasts  poured  down  from  the  mountains,  and  flur- 
ries of  snow  plainly  indicated  that  the  month  of  November  had  ar- 
rived; a season  whose  temperature  varies  from  the  heats  of  summer 
to  the  cold  of  winter.  Frances  had  stood  at  the  window  of  her  own 
apartment,  watching  the  slow  progress  of  the  funeral  procession,  with 
a melancholy  that  was  too  deep  to  be  excited  by  the  spectacle.  There 
was  something  ill  the  sad  office  that  was  in  unison  with  her  feelings. 
As  she  gazed  around,  she  saw  the  trees  bending  to  the  force  of  the 
wind,  that  swept  through  the  valley  with  an  impetuosity  that  shook 
even  the  buildings ; and  the  forest,  that  had  so  lately  glittered  in  the 
sun  with  its  variegated  hues,  was  fast  losing  its  loveliness,  as  the 
leaves  were  torn  from  the  branches,  and  were  driving  irregularly 
before  the  eddies  of  the  blast.  A few  of  the  southern  dragoons,  who 
were  patrolling  the  passes  which  led  to  the  encampment  of  the  corps, 
could  be  distinguished  at  a distance  on  the  heights,  bending  to  their 
pommels  as  they  faced  the  keen  air  which  had  so  lately  traversed  the 
great  fresh- water  lakes,  and  drawing  their  watch-coats  about  them  in 
tighter  folds. 

Frances  witnessed  the  disappearance  of  the  wooden  tenement  of 
che  deceased,  as  it  was  slowly  lowered  from  the  light  of  day;  and 


THE  SPY. 


20T 


the  sight  added  to  the  chilling  dreariness  of  the  view.  Captain  Sin- 
gleton was  sleeping  under  the  care  of  his  own  man,  while  his  sister 
had  been  persuaded  to  take  possession  of  her  room,  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  the  repose  of  which  her  last  night’s  journeying  had 
robbed  her.  The  apartment  of  Miss  Singleton  communicated  with 
the  room  occupied  by  the  sisters,  through  a private  door,  as  well  as 
through  the  ordinary  passage  of  the  house;  this  door  was  partly 
open,  and  Frances  moved  towards  it,  with  the  benevolent  intention 
of  ascertaining  the  situation  of  her  guest,  when  the  surprised  girl 
saw  her  whom  she  had  thought  to  be  sleeping,  not  only  awake,  but 
employed  in  a manner  that  banished  all  probability  of  present  repose. 
The  black  tresses,  that  during  the  dinner  had  been  drawn  in  close 
folds  over  the  crown  of  the  head,  were  now  loosened,  and  fell  in  pro 
fusion  over  her  shoulders  and  bosom,  imparting  a slight  degree  of 
wildness  to  her  countenance ; the  chilling  white  of  her  complexir.n 
was  strongly  contrasted  with  eyes  of  the  deepest  black,  that  were  fixed 
in  rooted  attention  on  a picture  she  held  in  her  hand.  Frances 
hardly  breathed,  as  she  was  enabled,  by  a movement  of  Isabella,  to 
see  that  it  was  the  figure  of  a man  in  the  well-known  dress  of  the 
southern  horse ; but  she  gasped  for  breath,  and  instinctively  laid  her 
hand  on  her  heart  to  quell  its  throbbings,  as  she  thought  she  recog- 
nised the  lineaments  that  were  so  deeply  seated  in  her  own  imagina- 
tion. Frances  felt  she  was  improperly  prying  into  the  sacred  pri- 
vacy of  another ; but  her  emotions  were  too  powerful  to  permit  her 
to  speak,  and  she  drew  back  to  a chair,  where  she  still  retained  a 
view  of  the  stranger,  from  whose  countenance  she  felt  it  to  be  im- 
possible to  withdraw  her  eyes.  Isabella  was  too  much  engrossed  by 
her  own  feelings  to  discover  the  trembling  figure  of  the  witness  to 
her  actions,  and  she  pressed  the  inanimate  image  to  her  lips,  with 
an  enthusiasm  that  denoted  the  most  intense  passion.  The  expres- 
sion of  the  countenance  of  the  fair  stranger  was  so  changeable,  and 
the  transitions  were  so  rapid,  that  Frances  had  scarcely  time  to  dis- 
tinguish the  character  of  the  emotion,  before  it  was  succeeded  by 


208 


THE  SPY. 


another,  equally  powerful  and  equally  attractive.  Admiration  and 
sorrow  were,  however,  the  preponderating  passions ; the  latter  was 
indicated  by  large  drops  that  fell  from  her  eyes  on  the  picture,  and 
which  followed  each  other  over  her  cheek  at  such  intervals,  as  seemed 
to  pronounce  the  grief  too  heavy  to  admit  of  the  ordinary  demonstra- 
tions of  sorrow.  Every  movement  of  Isabella  was  marked  by  an 
enthusiasm  that  was  peculiar  to  her  nature,  and  every  passion  in  its 
turn  triumphed  in  her  breast.  The  fury  of  the  wind,  as  it  whistled 
round  the  angles  of  the  building,  was  in  consonance  with  those  feel- 
ings, and  she  rose  and  moved  to  a window  of  her  apartment.  Her 
figure  was  now  hid  from  the  view  of  Frances,  who  was  about  to  rise 
and  approach  her  guest,  when  tones  of  a thrilling  melody  chained 
her  in  breathless  silence  to  the  spot.  The  notes  were  wild,  and  the 
voice  not  powerful,  but  the  execution  exceeded  any  thing  that  Fran- 
ces had  ever  heard ; and  she  stood,  endeavouring  to  stifle  the  sounds 
of  her  own  gentle  breathing,  until  the  following  song  was  con- 
?>aded : — 

Cold  blow  the  blasts  o’er  the  tops  of  the  mountain, 

And  bare  is  the  oak  on  the  hill ; 

Slowly  the  vapours  exhale  from  the  fountain, 

And  bright  gleams  the  iee-border’d  rill ; 

All  nature  is  seeking  its  annual  rest, 

But  the  slumbers  of  peace  have  deserted  my  breast. 

Long  has  the  storm  pour’d  its  weight  on  my  nation, 

And  long  have  her  brave  stood  the  shock ; 

Long  has  our  chieftain  ennobled  his  station, 

A bulwark  on  liberty’s  rock  ; — 

Unlicensed  ambition  relaxes  its  toil, 

Yet  blighted  affection  represses  my  smile. 

Abroad  the  wild  fury  of  winter  is  lowering, 

And  leafless  and  drear  is  the  tree  ; 

But  the  vertical  sun  of  the  south  appears  pouring 
Its  fierce  killing  heats  upon  me : — 

Without,  all  the  season’s  chill  symptoms  begin  — 

But  the  fire  of  passion  is  raging  within. 

Frances  abandoned  her  whole  soul  to  the  suppressed  melody  of 


THE  SPY. 


200 


the  music,  though  the  language  of  the  song  expressed  a meaning, 
which,  united  with  certain  events  of  that  and  the  preceding  day,  left 
a sensation  of  uneasiness  in  the  bosom  of  the  warm-hearted  girl,  to 
which  she  had  hitherto  been  a stranger.  Isabella  moved  from  the 
window  as  her  last  tones  melted  on  the  ear  of  her  admiring  listener, 
and,  for  the  first  time,  her  eye  rested  on  the  pallid  face  of  the  intru- 
der. A glow  of  fire  lighted  the  countenance  of  both  at  the  same  in- 
stant, and  the  blue  eye  of  Frances  met  the  brilliant  black  one  of  her 
guest  for  a single  moment,  and  both  fell  in  abashed  confusion  on  the 
carpet ; they  advanced,  however,  until  they  met,  and  had  taken  each 
other’s  hand,  before  either  ventured  again  to  look  her  companion  in 
the  face. 

“ This  sudden  change  in  the  weather,  and  perhaps  the  situation 
of  my  brother,  have  united  to  make  me  melancholy,  Miss  Wharton,” 
said  Isabella,  in  a low  tone,  and  in  a voice  that  trembled  as  she 
spoke. 

“ ’T  is  thought  you  have  little  to  apprehend  for  your  brother,” 
said  Frances,  in  the  same  embarrassed  manner;  “had  you  seen  him 
when  he  was  brought  in  by  Major  Dunwoodie  — ” 

Frances  paused,  with  a feeling  of  conscious  shame,  for  which  she 
could  not  account;  and,  in  raising  her  eyes,  she  saw  Isabella  study- 
ing  her  countenance  with  an  earnestness  that  again  drove  the  blood 
tumultuously  to  her  templls. 

“ You  were  speaking  of  Major  Dunwoodie,”  said  Isabella,  faintly. 

“ He  was  with  Captain  Singleton.” 

“ Do  you  know  Dunwoodie  ? have  you  seen  him  often  ?”  Once 
more  Frances  ventured  to  look  her  guest  in  the  face,  and  again  she 
met  the  piercing  eyes  bent  on  her,  as  if  to  search  her  inmost  heart. 
“Speak,  Miss  Wharton;  is  Major  Dunwoodie  known  to  you?” 

“ He  is  my  relative,”  said  Frances,  appalled  at  the  manner  of  the 
other. 

“ A relative  !”  echoed  Miss  Singleton ; “ in  what  degree  ? — speak, 
Miss  Wharton,  I conjure  you  to  speak.” 


210 


THE  SPY. 


u Our  parents  were  cousins/’  faintly  replied  Frances. 

“ And  he  is  to  be  your  husband  l"  said  the  stranger,  impetuously. 

Frances  felt  shocked,  and  cill  her  pride  awakened,  by  this  direct 
attack  upon  her  feelings,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  from  the  floor  to 
her  interrogator  a little  proudly,  when  the  pale  cheek  and  quivering 
lip  of  Isabella  removed  her  resentment  in  a moment. 

“ It  is  true  ! my  conjecture  is  true  : speak  to  me,  Miss  Wharton ; 
I conjure  you,  in  mercy  to  my  feelings,  to  tell  me  — do  you  love 
Dunwoodie  V9  There  was  a plaintive  earnestness  in  the  voice  of 
Miss  Singleton,  that  disarmed  Frances  of  all  resentment,  and  the 
only  answer  she  could  make  was  hiding  her  burning  face  between 
her  hands,  as  she  sunk  back  in  a chair  to  conceal  her  confusion. 

Isabella  paced  the  floor  in  silence  for  several  minutes,  until  she 
had  succeeded  in  conquering  the  violence  of  her  feelings,  when  she 
approached  the  place  where  Frances  yet  sat,  endeavouring  to  exclude 
the  eyes  of  her  companion  from  reading  the  shame  expressed  in  her 
countenance,  and,  taking  the  hand  of  the  other,  she  spoke  with  an 
evident  effort  at  composure. 

u Pardon  me,  Miss  Wharton,  if  my  ungovernable  feelings  have 
led  me  into  impropriety;  the  powerful  motive — the  cruel  reason — 99 
she  hesitated;  Frances  now  raised  her  face,  and  their  eyes  once 
more  met;  they  fell  in  each  other’s  arms,  and  laid  their  burning 
cheeks  together.  The  embrace  was  long — was  ardent  and  sincere — 
but  neither  spoke ; and  on  separating,  Frances  retired  to  her  own 
room  without  further  explanation. 

While  this  extraordinary  scene  was  acting  in  the  room  of  Miss 
Singleton,  matters  of  great  importance  were  agitated  in  the  drawing- 
room. The  disposition  of  the  fragments  of  such  a dinner  as  the  one 
we  have  recorded,  was  a task  that  required  no  little  exertion  and 
calculation  Notwithstanding  several  of  the  small  game  had  nestled 
in  the  pocket  of  Captain  Lawton’s  man,  and  even  the  assistant  of 
Dr.  Sitgreaves  had  calculated  the  uncertainty  of  his  remaining  long 
in  such  good  quarters,  still  there  was  more  left,  unconsumed,  than 


THE  SPY. 


211 


the  prudent  Miss  Peyton  knew  how  to  dispose  of  to  advantage. 
Caesar  and  his  mistress  had,  therefore,  a long  and  confidential  com- 
munication on  this  important  business ; and  the  consequence  was, 
that  Colonel  Wellmere  was  left  to  the  hospitality  of  Sarah  Wharton. 
All  the  ordinary  topics  of  conversation  were  exhausted,  when  the 
Colonel,  with  a little  of  the  uneasiness  that  is  in  some  degree  inse- 
parable from  conscious  error,  touched  lightly  on  the  transactions  of 
the  preceding  day. 

“We  little  thought,  Miss  Wharton,  when  I first  saw  this  Mr. 
Dunwoodie  in  your  house  in  Queen  Street,  that  he  was  to  be  the 
renowned  warrior  he  has  proved  himself,”  said  Wellmere,  endeavour- 
ing to  smile  away  his  chagrin. 

“Renowned,  when  we  consider  the  enemy  he  overcame,”  said 
Sarah.,  with  consideration  for  her  companion’s  feelings.  “’Twas 
most  unfortunate,  indeed,  in  every  respect,  that  you  met  with  the 
accident,  or  doubtless  the  royal  arms  would  have  triumphed  in  their 
usual  manner.” 

“ And  yet  the  pleasure  of  such  society  as  this  accident  has  intro- 
duced me  to,  would  more  than  repay  the  pain  of  a mortified  spirit 
and  wounded  body,”  added  the  Colonel,  in  a manner  of  peculiar 
softness. 

“ I hope  the  latter  is  but  trifling,”  said  Sarah,  stooping  to  hide 
her  blushes  under  the  pretext  of  biting  a thread  from  the  work  on 
her  knee. 

“ Trifling,  indeed,  compared  to  the  former,”  returned  the  Colonel, 
in  the  same  manner.  “ Ah  ! Miss  Wharton,  it  is  in  such  moments 
that  we  feel  the  full  value  of  friendship  and  sympathy.” 

Those  who  have  never  tried  it  cannot  easily  imagine  what  a rapid 
progress  a warm-hearted  female  can  make  in  love,  in  the  short  space 
of  half  an  hour,  particularly  where  there  is  a predisposition  to  the 
distemper.  Sarah  found  the  conversation,  when  it  began  to  touch 
on  friendship  and  sympathy,  too  interesting  to  venture  her  voice 


212 


THE  SPY. 


witli  a reply.  She,  however,  turned  her  eyes  on  the  Colonel,  and 
saw  him  gazing  at  her  fine  face  with  an  admiration  that  was  quite  as 
manifest,  and  much  more  soothing,  than  any  words  could  make  it. 

Their  tete-a-tete  was  uninterrupted  for  an  hour;  and  although 
nothing  that  would  he  called  decided,  by  an  experienced  matron, 
was  said  by  the  gentleman,  he  uttered  a thousand  things  that 
delighted  his  companion,  who  retired  to  her  rest  with  a lighter  heart 
than  she  had  felt  since  the  arrest  of  her  brother  by  the  Americans. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


And  let  me  the  canakin  clink,  clink  : 

And  let  me  the  canakin  clink. 

A soldier ’s  a man ; 

A life ’s  but  a span ; 

Why  then,  let  a soldier  drink. 

Iago. 

The  position  held  by  the  corps  of  dragoons,  we  have  already  said, 
was  a favourite  place  of  halting  with  their  commander.  A cluster 
of  some  half-dozen  small  and  dilapidated  buildings  formed  what,  from 
the  circumstance  of  two  roads  intersecting  each  other  at  right  angles, 
was  called  the  village  of  the  Four  Corners.  As  usual,  one  of  the 
most  imposing  of  these  edifices  had  been  termed,  in  the  language  of 
the  day,  u a house  of  entertainment  for  man  and  beast/5  On  a 
rough  board  suspended  from  the  gallows-looking  post  that  had  sup- 
ported the  ancient  sign,  was,  however,  written  in  red  chalk,  “ Eliza- 
beth Flanagan , her  hotel,’  an  ebullition  of  the  wit  of  some  of  the 
idle  wags  of  the  corps.  The  matron,  whose  name  had  thus  been 
exalted  to  an  office  of  such  unexpected  dignity,  ordinarily  discharged 
the  duties  of  a female  sutler,  washerwoman,  and,  to  use  the  language 
of  Katy  Haynes,  petticoat  doctor  to  the  troops.  She  was  the  widow 
of  a soldier  who  had  been  killed  in  the  service,  and  who,  like  her- 
self, was  a native  of  a distant  island,  and  had  early  tried  his  fortune 
in  the  colonies  of  North  America.  She  constantly  migrated  with 
the  troops;  and  it  was  seldom  that  they  became  stationary  for  two 
days  at  a time  but  the  little  cart  of  the  bustling  woman  was  seen 
driving  into  the  encampment,  loaded  with  such  articles  as  she  con- 


214 


THE  SPY. 


ceived  would  make  her  presence  most  welcome.  With  a celerity 
that  seemed  almost  supernatural,  Betty  took  up  her  ground  and 
commenced  her  occupation.  Sometimes  the  cart  itself  was  her  shop ; 
at  others  the  soldiers  made  her  a rude  shelter  of  such  materials  as 
offered;  but  on  the  present  occasion  she  had  seized  on  a vacant 
building,  and,  by  dint  of  stuffing  the  dirty  breeches  and  half-dried 
linen  of  the  troopers  into  the  broken  windows,  to  exclude  the  cold, 
which  had  now  become  severe,  she  formed  what  she  herself  had  pro- 
nounced to  be  u most  litigant  lodgings.”  The  men  were  quartered 
in  the  adjacent  barns,  and  the  officers  collected  in  the  u Hotel  Flan- 
agan,” as  they  facetiously  called  head-quarters.  Betty  was  well 
known  to  every  trooper  in  the  corps,  could  call  each  by  his  Christian 
or  nickname,  as  best  suited  her  fancy;  and,  although  absolutely 
intolerable  to  all  whom  habit  had  not  made  familiar  with  her  virtues, 
was  a general  favourite  with  these  partisan  warriors.  Her  faults 
were,  a trifling  love  of  liquor,  excessive  filthiness,  and  a total  disre- 
gard of  all  the  decencies  of  language;  her  virtues,  an  unbounded 
love  for  her  adopted  country,  perfect  honesty  when  dealing  on  cer- 
tain known  principles  with  the  soldiery,  and  great  good-nature. 
Added  to  these,  Betty  had  the  merit  of  being  the  inventor  of  that 
beverage  which  is  so  well  known,  at  the  present  hour,  to  all  the 
patriots  who  make  a winter’s  march  between  the  commercial  and 
political  capitals  of  this  great  state,  and  which  is  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  u cock-tail.”  Elizabeth  Flanagan  was  peculiarly  well 
qualified,  by  education  and  circumstances,  to  perfect  this  improve- 
ment in  liquors,  having  been  literally  brought  up  on  its  principal 
ingredient,  and  having  acquired  from  her  Virginian  customers  the 
use  of  mint,  from  its  flavour  in  a julep  to  its  height  of  renown  in  the 
article  in  question.  Such,  then,  was  the  mistress  of  the  mansion, 
who,  reckless  of  the  cold  northern  blasts,  showed  her  blooming  face 
from  the  door  of  the  building  to  welcome  the  arrival  of  her  favourite, 
Captain  Lawton,  and  his  companion,  her  master  in  matters  of 
surgery. 


THE  SPY. 


215 


“ Ah  ! by  my  hopes  of  promotion,  my  gentle  Elizabeth,  but  you 
are  welcome !”  cried  the  trooper,  as  he  threw  himself  from  his  sad- 
dle; “this  yillanous  fresh-water  gas  from  the  Canadas  has  been 
whistling  among  my  bones  till  they  ache  with  the  cold,  but  the  sight 
of  your  fiqry  countenance  is  as  cheering  as  a Christmas  fire.” 

“Now  sure,  Captain  Jack,  yee's  always  full  of  your  eompliment- 
aries,”  replied  the  sutler,  taking  the  bridle  of  her  customer;  “but 
hurry  in  for  the  life  of  you,  darling ; the  fences  hereabouts  are  not 
so  strong  as  in  the  Highlands,  and  there 's  that  within  will  warm 
both  sowl  and  body.” 

“ So  you  have  been  laying  the  rails  under  contribution,  I see : 
well,  that  may  do  for  the  body,”  said  the  Captain,  coolly ; “ but  I 
have  had  a pull  at  a bottle  of  cut-glass  with  a silver  stand,  and  I 
doubt  my  relish  for  your  whiskey  for  a month  to  come.” 

“If  it ^s  silver  or  goold  that  yee'r  thinking  of,  it 's  but  little  I 
have,  though  I've  a trifling  bit  of  the  continental,”  said  Betty,  with 
a look  of  humour;  “but  there 's  that  within  that's  fit  to  be  put  in 
vissels  of  diamonds.” 

“What  caD  she  mean,  Archibald?”  asked  Lawton:  “the  animal 
looks  as  if  it  meant  more  than  it  says !” 

“'Tis  probably  a wandering  of  the  reasoning  powers,  created  by 
the  frequency  of  intoxicating  draughts,”  observed  the  surgeon,  as  he 
deliberately  threw  his  left  leg  over  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and 
slid  down  on  the  right  side  of  his  horse. 

“ Faith,  my  dear  jewel  of  a doctor,  but  it  was  this  side  I was  ex- 
piring you ; the  whole  corps  come  down  on  this  side  but  yeerself,” 
said  Betty,  winking  at  the  trooper : “ but  I 've  been  feeding  the 
wounded,  in  yeer  absence,  with  the  fat  of  the  land.” 

“ Barbarous  stupidity !”  cried  the  panic-stricken  physician,  “ to 
feed  men  labouring  under  the  excitement  of  fever  with  powerful 
nutriment:  woman,  woman,  you  are  enough  to  defeat  the  skill  of 
Hippocrates !” 

“ Pooh !”  said  Betty,  with  infinite  composure,  “ what  a bothera 


210 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


tion  yet  make  about  a little  whiskey;  there  was  but  a gallon  betwixt 
a good  two  dozen  of  them,  and  I gave  it  to  the  boys  to  make  them 
sleep  asy;  sure,  jist  as  slumbering  drops.” 

Lawton  and  his  companion  now  entered  the  building,  and  the  first 
objects  which  met  their  eyes  explained  the  hidden  iueaning  of 
Betty’s  comfortable  declaration.  A long  table,  made  of  boards  torn 
from  the  side  of  an  out-building,  was  stretched  through  the  middle 
of  the  largest  apartment,  or  the  bar-room,  and  on  it  was  a very 
scanty  display  of  crockery  ware.  The  steams  of  cookery  arose  from 
an  adjoining  kitchen,  but  the  principal  attraction  was  in  a demijohn 
of  fair  proportions,  which  had  been  ostentatiously  placed  on  high  by 
Betty  as  the  object  most  worthy  of  notice.  Lawton  soon  learnt  that 
it  was  teeming  with  the  real  amber-coloured  juice  of  the  grape,  and 
had  been  sent  from  the  Locusts,  as  an  offering  to  Major  Dunwoodie, 
from  his  friend  Captain  Wharton,  of  the  royal  army. 

“ And  a royal  gift  it  is,”  said  the  grinning  subaltern,  who  made 
the  explanation.  u The  Major  gives  us  an  entertainment  in  honour 
of  our  victory,  and  you  see  the  principal  expense  is  borne,  as  it  should 
be,  by  the  enemy.  Zounds,  I am  thinking  that  after  we  have  primed 
with  such  stuff,  we  could  charge  through  Sir  Henry’s  head-quarters, 
and  carry  off  the  knight  himself.” 

The  Captain  of  dragoons  was  in  no  manner  displeased  at  the  pros- 
pect of  terminating  so  pleasantly  a day  that  had  been  so  agreeably 
commenced.  He  was  soon  surrounded  by  his  comrades,  who  made 
many  eager  enquiries  concerning  his  adventures,  while  the  surgeon 
proceeded,  with  certain  quakings  of  the  heart,  to  examine  into  the 
state  of  his  wounded.  Enormous  fires  were  snapping  in  the  chim- 
neys of  the  house,  superseding  the  necessity  of  candles,  by  the  bright 
light  which  was  thrown  from  the  blazing  piles.  The  group  within 
were  all  young  men,  and  tried  soldiers;  in  number  they  were  rather 
more  than  a dozen,  and  their  manners  and  conversation  were  a strange 
mixture  of  the  bluntness  of  the  partisan  with  the  manners  of  gentle- 
men. Their  dresses  were  neat,  though  plain;  and  a never-failing 


THE  SPY. 


217 


topic  amongst  them  was  the  performance  and  quality  of  their  horses. 
Some  were  endeavouring  to  sleep  on  the  benches  which  lined  the 
walls,  some  were  walking  the  apartments,  and  others  were  seated  in 
earnest  discussion  on  subjects  connected  with  the  business  of  their 
lives.  Occasionally,  as  the  door  of  the  kitchen  opened,  the  hissing 
sounds  of  the  frying-pans  and  the  inviting  savour  of  the  food  created 
a stagnation  in  all  other  employments;  even  the  sleepers,  at  such 
moments,  would  open  their  eyes,  and  raise  their  heads,  to  reconnoitre 
the  state  of  the  preparations.  All  this  time  Dunwoodie  sat  by  him- 
self, gazing  at  the  fire,  and  lost  in  reflections  which  none  of  his  offi- 
cers presumed  to  disturb.  He  had  made  earnest  enquiries  of  Sit- 
greaves  after  the  condition  of  Singleton,  during  which  a profound 
and  respectful  silence  was  maintained  in  the  room ; but  as  soon  as 
he  had  ended,  and  resumed  his  seat,  the  usual  ease  and  freedom 
prevailed. 

The  arrangement  of  the  table  was  a matter  of  but  little  concern 
to  Mrs.  Flanagan ; and  Caesar  would  have  been  sadly  scandalized  at 
witnessing  the  informality  with  which  various  dishes,  each  bearing 
a wonderful  resemblance  to  the  others,  were  placed  before  so  many 
gentlemen  of  consideration.  In  taking  their  places  at  the  board, 
the  strictest  attention  was  paid  to  precedency ; for,  notwithstanding 
the  freedom  of  manners  which  prevailed  in  the  corps,  the  points  of 
military  etiquette  were  at  all  times  observed,  with  something  ap- 
proaching to  religious  veneration.  Most  of  the  guests  had  been 
fasting  too  long  to  be  in  any  degree  fastidious  in  their  appetites; 
but  the  case  was  different  with  Captain  Lawton ; he  felt  an  unac- 
countable loathing  at  the  exhibition  of  Betty’s  food,  and  could  not 
refrain  from  making  a few  parsing  comments  on  the  condition  of  the 
knives,  and  the  clouded  aspect  of  the  plates.  The  good-nature  and 
the  personal  affection  of  Betty  for  the  offender,  restrained  her,  for 
some  time,  from  answering  his  innuendoes,  until  Lawton,  having 
ventured  to  admit  a piece  of  the  black  meat  into  his  mouth , enquired, 
with  the  affectation  of  a spoiled  child, — 

10 


218 


THE  SPY. 


“ What  kind  of  animal  might  this  have  been  when  living,  Mrs. 
Flanagan  ?” 

“ Sure,  Captain,  and  wasn’t  it  the  ould  cow,”  replied  the  sutler, 
with  a warmth  that  proceeded  partly  from  dissatisfaction  at  the  com- 
plaints of  her  favourite,  and  partly  from  grief  at  the  loss  of  th^  de- 
ceased. 

“ What !”  roared  the  trooper,  stopping  short  as  he  was  about  to 
swallow  his  morsel,  “ ancient  J enny !” 

“The  devil!”  cried  another,  dropping  his  knife  and  fork,  “she 
who  made  the  campaign  of  the  Jerseys  with  us  ?” 

“ The  very  same,”  replied  the  mistress  of  the  hotel,  with  a piteous 
aspect  of  woe ; “a  gentle  baste,  and  one  that  could  and  did  live  on 
less  than  air,  at  need.  Sure,  gentlemen,  ’tis  awful  to  have  to  eat 
sitch  an  ould  friend.” 

“And  has  she  sunk  to  this?”  said  Lawton,  pointing  with  his 
knife  to  the  remnants  on  the  table. 

“Nay,  Captain,”  said  Betty,  with  spirit,  “I  sould  two  of  her 
quarters  to  some  of  your  troop ; but  divil  the  word  did  I tell  the 
boys  what  an  ould  frind  it  was  they  had  bought,  for  fear  it  might 
damage  their  appetites.” 

“ Fury !”  cried  the  trooper,  with  affected  anger,  “ I shall  have 
my  fellows  as  limber  as  supple-jacks  on  such  fare;  afraid  of  an 
Englishman  as  a Virginian  negro  is  of  his  driver.” 

“Well,”  said  Lieutenant  Mason,  dropping  his  knife  and  fork  in 
a kind  of  despair,  “my  jaws  have  more  sympathy  than  many  men’s 
hearts.  They  absolutely  decline  making  any  impression  on  the 
relics  of  their  old  acquaintance.” 

“ Try  a drop  of  the  gift,”  said  Betty,  soothingly,  pouring  a large 
allowance  of  the  wine  into  a bowl,  and  drinking  it  off  as  taster  to 
the  corps.  “ Faith,  ’t  is  but  a wishy-washy  sort  of  stuff  after  all !” 
The  ice  once  broken,  however,  a clear  glass  of  wine  was  handed 
to  Dunwoodie,  who,  bowing  to  his  companions,  drank  the  liquor  in 
the  midst  of  a profound  silence.  For  a few  glasses  there  was  much 


THE  SPY. 


219 


formality  observed,  and  sundry  patriotic  toasts  and  sentiments  were 
duly  noticed  by  the  company.  The  liquor,  however,  performed  its 
wonted  office ; and  before  the  second  sentinel  at  the  door  had  been 
relieved,  all  recollection  of  the  dinner  and  their  cares  was  lost  in  the 
present  festivity.  Dr.  Sitgreaves  did  not  return  in  season  to  partake 
of  Jenny,  but  he  was  in  time  to  receive  his  fair  proportion  of  Cap- 
tain Wharton’s  present. 

“ A song,  a song  from  Captain  Lawton !”  cried  two  or  three  of 
the  party  in  a breath,  on  observing  the  failure  of  some  of  the  points 
of  good-fellowship  in  the  trooper ; “ silence,  for  the  song  of  Captain 
Lawton.” 

“ Gentlemen,”  returned  Lawton,  his  dark  eyes  swimming  with 
the  bumpers  he  had  finished,  though  his  head  was  as  impenetrable 
as  a post ; “ I am  not  much  of  a nightingale,  but,  under  the  favour 
of  your  good  wishes,  I consent  to  comply  with  the  demand.” 

“Now,  Jack,”  said  Sitgreaves,  nodding  on  his  seat,  “remember 
the  air  I taught  you,  and — stop,  I have  a copy  of  the  words  in  my 
pocket.” 

“ Forbear,  forbear,  good  doctor,”  said  the  trooper,  filling  his  glass 
with  great  deliberation;  “I  never  could  wheel  round  those  hard 
names.  Gentlemen,  I will  give  you  an  humble  attempt  of  my  own.” 

“ Silence,  for  Captain  Lawton’s  song !”  roared  five  or  six  at  once ; 
when  the  trooper  proceeded,  in  a fine  full  tone,  to  sing  the  following- 
words  to  a well-known  bacchanalian  air,  several  of  his  comrades 
helping  him  through  the  chorus  with  a fervour  that  shook  the  crazy 
edifice  they  were  in  : — 

Now  push  the  mug,  my  jolly  boys, 

And  live,  while  live  we  can, 

To-morrow’s  sun  may  end  your  joys. 

For  brief’s  the  hour  of  man. 

And  he  who  bravely  meets  the  foe 
His  lease  of  life  can  never  know. 

Old  mother  Flanagan 
Come  and  fill  the  can  again  ; 

For  you  can  fill,  and  we  can  swill. 

Good  Betty  Flanagan. 


220 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


If  love  of  life  pervades  your  breast. 

Or  love  of  ease  your  frame, 

Quit  honour’s  path  for  peaceful  rest, 

And  bear  a coward’s  name ; 

For  soon  and  late,  we  danger  know, 

And  fearless  on  the  saddle  go. 

Old  mother,  &c. 

When  foreign  foes  invade  the  land, 

And  wives  and  sweethearts  call : 

In  freedom’s  cause  we  ’ll  bravely  stand, 

Or  will  as  bravely  fall. 

In  this  fair  home  the  fates  have  given, 

We  ’ll  live  as  lords,  or  live  in  heaven. 

Old  mother,  &c. 

At  each  appeal  made  to  herself,  by  the  united  voices  of  the  choir, 
Betty  invariably  advanced  and  complied  literally  with  the  request 
contained  in  the  chorus,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  the  singers,  and 
with  no  small  participation  in  the  satisfaction  on  her  own  account. 
The  hostess  was  provided  with  a beverage  more  suited  to  the  high 
seasoning  to  which  she  had  accustomed  her  palate,  than  the  tasteless 
present  of  Captain  Wharton ; by  which  means  Betty  had  managed, 
with  tolerable  facility,  to  keep  even  pace  with  the  exhilaration  of 
her  guests.  The  applause  received  by  Captain  Lawton  was  general, 
with  the  exception  of  the  surgeon,  who  rose  from  the  bench  during 
the  first  chorus,  and  paced  the  floor,  in  a flow  of  classical  indigna- 
tion. The  bravos  and  bravissimos  drowned  all  other  noises  for  a 
short  time ; but  as  they  gradually  ceased,  the  doctor  turned  to  the 
musician,  and  exclaimed,  with  heat — 

“ Captain  Lawton,  I marvel  that  a gentleman,  and  a gallant  officer, 
can  find  no  other  subject  for  his  muse,  in  these  times  of  trial,  than 
in  such  beastly  invocations  to  that  notorious  follower  of  the  camp, 
the  filthy  Elizabeth  Flanagan.  Methinks  the  goddess  of  Liberty 
could  furnish  a more  noble  inspiration,  and  the  sufferings  of  your 
country  a more  befitting  theme.” 

“ Heyday !”  shouted  the  hostess,  advancing  towards  him  in  a 


THE  SPY. 


221 


threatening  attitude ; “ and  who  is  it  that  calls  me  filthy  ? Master 
squirt ! Master  pop-gun  — ” 

“ Peace  !”  said  Dunwoodie,  in  a voice  that  was  exerted  hut  a little 
more  than  common,  but  which  was  succeeded  by  the  stillness  of 
death ; u woman,  leave  the  room.  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  I call  you  to  your 
seat,  to  wait  the  order  of  the  revels.” 

“ Proceed,  proceed,”  said  the  surgeon,  drawing  himself  ,up  in  an 
attitude  of  dignified  composure ; u I trust,  Major  Dunwoodie,  I am 
not  unacquainted  with  the  rules  of  decorum,  nor  ignorant  of  the  bye- 
laws  of  good-fellowship.”  Betty  made  a hasty  but  somewhat  devious 
retreat  to  her  own  dominions,  being  unaccustomed  to  dispute  the 
orders  of  the  commanding  officer. 

u Major  Dunwoodie  will  honour  us  with  a sentimental  song,”  said 
Lawton,  bowing  to  his  leader,  with  the  collected  manner  he  so  well 
knew  how  to  assume. 

The  Major  hesitated  a moment,  and  then  sang,  with  fine  execu- 
tion, the  following  words  : — 

Some  love  the  heats  of  southern  suns, 

Where  life’s  warm  current  maddening  runs, 

In  one  quick  circling  stream ; 

But  dearer  far  ’s  the  mellow  light 
Which  trembling  shines,  reflected  bright 
In  Luna’s  milder  beam. 

Some  love  the  tulip’s  gaudier  dyes, 

Where  deepening  blue  with  yellow  vies, 

And  gorgeous  beauty  glows  ; 

But  happier  he,  whose  bridal  wreath, 

By  love  entwined,  is  found  to  breathe 
The  sweetness  of  the  rose. 

The  voice  of  Dunwoodie  never  lost  its  authority  with  his  inferiors ; 
and  the  applause  which  followed  his  song,  though  by  no  means  so 
riotous  as  that  which  succeeded  the  effort  of  the  Captain,  was  much 
more  flattering. 

u If,  sir,”  said  the  doctor,  after  joining  in  the  plaudits  of  his  com- 


222 


THE  S t>  Y. 


panions,  “you  would  but  learn  to  unite  classical  allusions  with 
your  delicate  imagination,  you  would  become  a pretty  amateur 
poet. 

“ He  who  criticises  ought  to  be  able  to  perform/' ’ said  Dunwoodie, 
with  a smile.  “ I call  on  Dr.  Sitgreaves  for  a specimen  of  the  style 
lie  admires.” 

“ Dr.  Sitgreaves’  song ! Dr.  Sitgreaves’  song !”  echoed  all  at  the 
table  with  delight ; “ a classical  ode  from  Dr.  Sitgreaves  !” 

The  surgeon  made  a complacent  bow,  took  the  remnant  of  hi 
glass,  and  gave  a few  preliminary  hems,  that  served  hugely  to  de- 
light three  or  four  young  cornets  at  the  foot  of  the  table.  He  then 
commenced  singing,  in  a cracked  voice,  and  to  any  thing  but  a tune, 
the  following  ditty  : — 

Hast  thou  ever  felt  love’s  dart,  dearest, 

Or  breathed  his  trembling  sigh  — 

Thought  him,  afar,  was  ever  nearest, 

Before  that  sparkling  eye  ? 

Then  hast  thou  known  what ’t  is  to  feel 
The  pain  that  Galen  could  not  heal. 

“ Hurrah !”  shouted  Lawton : “ Archibald  eclipses  the  muses 
themselves ; his  words  flow  like  the  sylvan  stream  by  moonlight,  and 
his  melody  is  a cross  breed  of  the  nightingale  and  the  owl.” 

“Captain  Lawton,”  cried  the  exasperated  operator,  “it  is  one 
thing  to  despise  the  lights  of  classical  learning,  and  another  to  be 
despised  for  your  own  ignorance  !” 

A loud  summons  at  the  door  of  the  building  created  a dead  halt 
in  the  uproar,  and  the  dragoons  instinctively  caught  up  their  arms, 
to  be  prepared  for  the  worst.  The  door  was  opened,  and  the  Skin- 
ners entered,  dragging  in  the  pedler,  bending  beneath  the  load  of 
his  pack. 

“ Which  is  Captain  Lawton  ?”  said  the  leader  of  the  gang,  gazing 
around  him  in  some  little  astonishment. 

“He  waits  your  pleasure,”  said  the  trooper,  drily. 


THE  SPY. 


223 


v Then  here  I deliver  to  your  hands  a condemned  tiaitor : this  is 
Harvey  Birch,  the  pedler  spy.” 

Lawton  started  as  he  looked  his  old  acquaintance  in  the  face,  and, 
turning  to  the  Skinner  with  a lowering  look,  he  asked  — 

“ And  who  are  you,  sir,  that  speak  so  freely  of  your  neighbours  ? 

- - But,”  bowing  to  Dunwoodie,  “ your  pardon,  sir ; here  is  the 
commanding  officer;  to  him  you  will  please  address  yourself."" 

“No,”  said  the  man,  sullenly,  “it  is  to  you  I deliver  the  pedler, 
and  from  you  I claim  my  reward/" 

“Are  you  Harvey  Birch ?""  said  Dunwoodie,  advancing  with 
an  air  of  authority  that  instantly  drove  the  Skinner  to  a corner  of 
the  room. 

“I  am,”  said  Birch,  proudly. 

“And  a traitor  to  your  country,”  continued  the  Major,  with  stern- 
ness; “do  you  know  that  I should  be  justified  in  ordering  your 
execution  this  night?"" 

“ "T  is  not  the  will  of  God  to  call  a soul  so  hastily  to  his  pre- 
sence,"" said  the  pedler,  with  solemnity. 

“You  speak  truth,""  said  Dunwoodie;  “and  a few  brief  hours 
shall  be  added  to  your  life.  But  as  your  offence  is  most  odious  to  a 
soldier,  so  it  will  be  sure  to  meet  with  the  soldier’s  vengeance : you 
die  to-morrow."" 

“"Tis  as  God  wills."" 

“ I have  spent  many  a good  hour  to  entrap  the  villain,""  said  the 
Skinner,  advancing  a little  from  his  corner,  “ and  I hope  you  will 
give  me  a certificate  that  will  entitle  us  to  the  reward;  "twas  pro- 
mised to  be  paid  in  gold."" 

“Major  Dunwoodie,""  said  the  officer  of  the  day,  entering  the 
room,  “the  patroles  report  a house  to  be  burnt  near  yesterday’s 
battle-ground."" 

“"Twas  the  hut  of  the  pedler,""  muttered  the  leader  of  the 
gang ; “ we  have  not  left  him  a shingle  for  shelter ; I should  have 


224 


1 H E SPY. 


burnt  it  months  ago,  but  I wanted  his  shed  for  a trap  to  catch  the 
sly  fox  in.” 

“ You  seem  a most  ingenious  patriot,”  said  Lawton.  “ Majoi 
Dunwoodie,  I second  the  request  of  this  worthy  gentleman,  an J 
crave  the  office  of  bestowing  the  reward  on  him  and  his  fellows.” 

“Take  it; — and  you,  miserable  man,  prepare  for  that  fate 
which  will  surely  befall  you  before  the  setting  of  to-morrow's  sun.” 

“Life  offers  but  little  to  tempt  me  with,”  said  Harvey,  slowly 
raising  his  eyes,  and  gazing  wildly  at  the  strange  faces  in  the  apart- 
ment. 

“ Come,  worthy  children  of  America !”  said  Lawton,  “ follow,  and 
receive  your  reward.” 

The  gang  eagerly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  followed  the  cap- 
tain towards  the  quarters  assigned  to  his  troop.  Dunwoodie  paused 
a moment,  from  reluctance  to  triumph  over  a fallen  foe,  before  he 
proceeded. 

“You  have  already  been  tried,  Harvey  Birch ; and  the  truth  has 
proved  you  to  be  an  enemy  too  dangerous  to  the  liberties  of  America 
to  be  suffered  to  live.” 

“ The  truth  !”  echoed  the  pedler,  starting,  and  raising  himself  in 
a manner  that  disregarded  the  weight  of  his  pack. 

“Ay!  the  truth;  you  were  charged  with  loitering  near  the  con- 
tinental army,  to  gain  intelligence  of  its  movements,  and,  by  com- 
municating them  to  the  enemy,  to  enable  him  to  frustrate  the  inten- 
tions of  Washington.” 

“Will  Washington  say  so,  think  you?” 

“Doubtless  he  would;  even  the  justice  of  Washington  con- 
demns you.” 

“ No,  no,  no,”  cried  the  pedler,  in  a voice  and  with  a manner  that 
startled  Dunwoodie ; “ Washington  can  see  beyond  the  hollow  views 
of  pretended  patriots.  Has  he  not  risked  his  all  on  the  cast  of  a 
die?  if  a gallows  is  ready  for  me,  was  there  not  one  for  him  also? 


THE  SPY. 


225 


No,  no,  no,  no  — Washington  would  never  say,  6 Lead  him  to  a 
gallows/  ” 

“ Have  you  any  thing,  wretched  man,  to  urge  to  the  commander- 
in-chief  why  you  should  not  die  V 9 said  the  Major,  recovering  from 
the  surprise  created  by  the  manner  of  the  other. 

Birch  trembled,  for  violent  emotions  were  contending  in  his 
bosom.  His  face  assumed  the  ghastly  paleness  of  death,  and  his 
hand  drew  a box  of  tin  from  the  folds  of  his  shirt ; he  opened  it, 
showing  by  the  act  that  it  contained  a small  piece  of  paper : on 
this  document  his  eye  was  for  an  instant  fixed  — he  had  already 
held  it  towards  Dunwoodie,  when  suddenly  withdrawing  his  hand, 
he  exclaimed  — 

“No  — it  dies  with  me;  I know  the  conditions  of  my  service, 
and  will  not  purchase  life  with  their  forfeiture  — it  dies  with  me.” 

“ Deliver  that  paper,  and  you  may  possibly  find  favour,”  cried 
Dunwoodie,  expecting  a discovery  of  importance  to  the  cause. 

“ It  dies  with  me,”  repeated  Birch,  a flush  passing  over  his  pallid 
features,  and  lighting  them  with  extraordinary  brilliancy. 

“ Seize  the  traitor !”  cried  the  Major,  “and  wrest  the  secret  from 
his  hands.” 

The  order  was  immediately  obeyed;  but  the  movements  of  the 
pedler  were  too  quick ; in  an  instant  he  swallowed  the  paper.  The 
officers  paused  in  astonishment;  but  the  surgeon  cried  eagerly — 

“ Hold  him,  while  I administer  an  emetic.” 

“ Forbear  !”  said  Dunwoodie,  beckoning  him  back  with  his  hand  ; 
“if  his  crime  is  great,  so  will  his  punishment  be  heavy.” 

“ Lead  on,”  cried  the  pedler,  dropping  his  pack  from  his  shoul- 
ders, and  advancing  towards  the  door  with  a manner  of  incompre- 
hensible dignity. 

“ Whither  ?”  asked  Dunwoodie,  in  amazement. 

“ To  the  gallows.” 

“'No,”  said  the  Major,  recoiling  in  horror  at  his  own  justice. 

10* 


226 


THE  SPY. 


“ My  duty  requires  that  I order  you  to  be  executed,  but  surely 
not  so  hastily;  take  until  nine  to-morrow  to  prepare  for  the  awful 
change. 

Dunwoodie  whispered  his  orders  in  the  ear  of  a subaltern,  and 
motioned  to  the  pedler  to  withdraw.  The  interruption  caused  by 
this  scene  prevented  further  enjoyment  around  the  table,  and  the 
officers  dispersed  to  their  several  places  of  rest.  In  a short  time  the 
only  noise  to  be  heard  was  the  heavy  tread  of  the  sentinel,  as  he 
paced  the  frozen  ground  in  front  of  the  Hotel  Flanagan. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


“There  are,  whose  changing  lineaments 

Express  each  guileless  passion  of  the  breast ; 

Where  Love,  and  Hope,  and  tender-hearted  Pity 
Are  seen  reflected,  as  from  a mirror’s  face ; 

But  cold  experience  can  veil  these  hues 
With  looks,  invented  shrewdly  to  encompass 
The  cunning  purposes  of  base  deceit.” 

Duo . 

The  officer  to  whose  keeping  Dunwoodie  had  committed  the  pedlei 
transferred  his  charge  to  the  custody  of  the  regular  sergeant  of  the 
guard.  The  gift  of  Captain  Wharton  had  not  been  lost  on  the 
youthful  lieutenant ; and  a certain  dancing  motion  that  had  taken 
possession  of  objects  before  his  eyes,  gave  him  warning  of  the  neces- 
sity of  recruiting  nature  by  sleep.  After  admonishing  the  non-com- 
missioned guardian  of  Harvey  to  omit  no  watchfulness  in  securing 
the  prisoner,  the  youth  wrapped  himself  in  his  cloak,  and,  stretched 
on  a bench  before  a fire,  soon  found  the  repose  he  needed.  A rude 
shed  extended  the  whole  length  of  the  rear  of  the  building,  and  from 
off  one  of  its  ends  had  been  partitioned  a small  apartment,  that  was 
intended  as  a repository  for  many  of  the  lesser  implements  of  hus- 
bandry. The  lawless  times  had,  however,  occasioned  its  being- 
stripped  of  every  thing  of  value ; and  the  searching  eyes  of  Betty 
Flanagan  selected  this  spot,  on  her  arrival,  as  the  storehouse  for  her 
moveables,  and  a sanctuary  for  her  person.  The  spare  arms  and 
baggage  of  the  corps  had  also  been  deposited  here ; and  the  united 
treasures  were  placed  under  the  eye  of  the  sentinel  who  paraded  the 
shed  as  a guardian  of  the  rear  of  the  head-quarters.  A second  sol- 


228 


THE  SPY. 


dier,  who  was  stationed  near  the  house  to  protect  the  horses  of  the 
officers,  could  command  a view  of  the  outside  of  the  apartment ; and, 
as  it  was  without  window  or  outlet  of  any  kind,  excepting  its  door, 
the  considerate  sergeant  thought  this  the  most  befitting  place  in 
which  to  deposit  his  prisoner  until  the  moment  of  his  execution. 
Several  inducements  urged  Sergeant  Hollister  to  this  determination, 
among  which  was  the  absence  of  the  washerwoman,  who  lay  before 
the  kitchen  fire,  dreaming  that  the  corps  was  attacking  a party  of 
the  enemy,  and  mistaking  the  noise  that  proceeded  from  her  own 
nose  for  the  bugles  of  the  Virginians  sounding  the  charge.  Another 
was  the  peculiar  opinions  that  the  veteran  entertained  of  life  and 
death,  and  by  which  he  was  distinguished  in  the  corps  as  a man  of 
most  exemplary  piety  and  holiness  of  life.  The  sergeant  was  more 
than  fifty  years  of  age,  and  for  half  that  period  he  had  borne  arms. 
The  constant  recurrence  of  sudden  deaths  before  his  eyes,  had  pro- 
duced an  effect  on  him  differing  greatly  from  that  which  was  the 
usual  moral  consequence  of  such  scenes;  and  he  had  become  not 
only  the  most  steady,  but  the  most  trustworthy  soldier  in  his  troop. 
Captain  Lawton  had  rewarded  his  fidelity  by  making  him  its  orderly. 

Followed  by  Birch,  the  sergeant  proceeded  in  silence  to  the  door 
of  the  intended  prison,  and,  throwing  it  open  with  one  hand,  he  held 
a lantern  with  the  other  to  light  the  pedler  to  his  prison.  Seating 
himself  on  a cask,  that  contained  some  of  Betty’s  favourite  beverage, 
the  sergeant  motioned  to  Birch  to  occupy  another,  in  the  same  man- 
ner. The  lantern  was  placed  on  the  floor,  when  the  dragoon,  after 
looking  his  prisoner  steadily  in  the  face,  observed  — 

“ You  look  as  if  you  would  meet  death  like  a man;  and  I have 
brought  you  to  a spot  where  you  can  tranquilly  arrange  your  thoughts, 
and  be  quiet  and  undisturbed.” 

“’T  is  a fearful  place  to  prepare  for  the  last  change  in,”  said  Har- 
vey, gazing  around  his  little  prison  with  a vacant  eye. 

“Why,  for  the  matter  of  that,”  returned  the  veteran,  “it  can 
reckon  but  little,  in  the  great  account,  where  a man  parades  Lis 


THE  SPY. 


229 


thoughts  for  the  last  review,  so  that  he  finds  them  fit  to  pass  the 
muster  of  another  world.  I have  a small  book  here,  which  I make 
it  a point  to  read  a little  in,  whenever  we  are  about  to  engage,  and 
I find  it  a great  strengthener  in  time  of  need.”  While  speaking,  he 
took  a Bible  from  his  pocket,  and  offered  it  to  the  pedler.  Birch 
received  the  volume  with  habitual  reverence ; but  there  was  an  ab- 
stracted air  about  him,  and  a wandering  of  the  eye,  that  induced  his 
companion  to  think  that  alarm  was  getting  the  mastery  of  the  pedler' s 
feelings ; accordingly,  he  proceeded  in  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
offices  of  consolation. 

“ If  any  thing  lies  heavy  on  your  mind,  now  is  the  best  time  to 
get  rid  of  it  = — if  you  have  done  any  wrong  to  any  one,  I promise 
you,  on  the  word  of  an  honest  dragoon,  to  lend  you  a helping  hand 
to  see  them  righted.” 

“ There  are  few  who  have  not  done  so,”  said  the  pedler,  turning 
his  vacant  gaze  once  more  on  his  companion. 

66  True  — 'tis  natural  to  sin  — but  it  sometimes  happens,  that  a 
man  does  what  at  other  times  he  may  be  sorry  for.  One  would 
not  not  wish  to  die  with  any  very  heavy  sin  on  his  conscience, 
after  ail.” 

Harvey  had  by  this  time  thoroughly  examined  the  place  in  which 
he  was  to  pass  the  night,  and  saw  no  means  of  escape.  But  as  hope 
is  ever  the  last  feeling  to  desert  the  human  breast,  the  pedler  gave 
the  dragoon  more  of  his  attention,  fixing  on  his  sunburnt  features 
such  searching  looks,  that  Sergeant  Hollister  lowered  his  eyes  before 
the  wild  expression  which  he  met  in  the  gaze  of  his  prisoner. 

“ I have  been  taught  to  lay  the  burden  of  my  sins  at  the  feet  of 
my  Saviour,”  replied  the  pedler. 

“ Why,  yes  — all  that  is  well  enough,”  returned  the  other  * u but 
justice  should  be  dene  while  there  is  opportunity.  There  have  been 
stirring  times  in  this  country  since  the  war  began,  and  many  have 
been  deprived  of  their  rightful  goods.  I oftentimes  find  it  hard  to 
reconcile  even  my  lawful  plunder  to  a tender  conscience  ” 


*230 


THE  SPY. 


u These  hands/’  said  the  pedler,  stretching  forth  his  meagre,  bon\ 
fingers,  “ have  spent  yews  in  toil,  but  not  a moment  in  pilfering.” 
“It  is  well  that  it  is  so,”  said  the  honest-hearted  soldier;  “ and, 
no  doubt,  you  now  feel  it  a great  consolation.  There  are  three  great 
sins,  that,  if  a man  can  keep  his  conscience  clear  of,  why,  by  the 
mercy  of  God,  he  may  hope  to  pass  muster  with  the  saints  in  heaven  : 
they  are  stealing,  murdering,  and  desertion.” 

“ Thank  God !”  said  Birch  with  fervour,  “ I have  never  yet  taken 
the  life  of  a fellow-creature.” 

“ As  to  killing  a man  in  lawful  battle,  that  is  no  more  than  doing 
one’s  duty.  If  the  cause  is  wrong,  the  sin  of  such  a deed,  you 
know,  falls  on  the  nation,  and  a man  receives  his  punishment  here 
with  the  rest  of  the  people ; but  murdering  in  cold  blood  stands  next 
to  desertion  as  a crime  in  the  eye  of  God.” 

“ I never  was  a soldier,  therefore  never  could  desert,”  said  the 
pedler,  resting  his  face  on  his  hand  in  a melancholy  attitude. 

u Why,  desertion  consists  of  more  than  quitting  your  colours, 
though  that  is  certainly  the  worst  kind;  a man  may  desert  his 
country  in  the  hour  of  need.” 

Birch  buried  his  face  in  both  his  hands,  and  his  whole  frame 
shook;  the  sergeant  regarded  him  closely,  but  good  feelings  soon 
got  the  better  of  his  antipathies,  and  he  continued  more  mildly  — 
u But  still  that  is  a sin  which  I think  may  be  forgiven,  if  sin- 
cerely repented  of ; and  it  matters  but  little  when  or  how  a man 
dies,  so  that  he  dies  like  a Christian  and  a man.  I recommend 
you  to  say  your  prayers,  and  then  to  get  some  rest,  in  order 
that  you  may  do  both.  There  is  no  hope  of  your  being  pardoned ; 
for  Colonel  Singleton  has  sent  down  the  most  positive  orders  to 
take  your  life  whenever  we  met  you.  No  — no  — nothing  can 
save  you.” 

“ Y ou  say  the  truth,”  cried  Birch.  “ It  is  now  too  late  — I have 
destroyed  my  only  safeguard.  But  he  will  do  my  memory  justice 
it  least.” 


THE  SPY. 


231 


“ AVhat  safeguard  ?”  asked  the  sergeant,  with  awakened  curi- 
osity. 

“ T is  nothing,”  replied  the  pedler,  recovering  his  natural  man- 
ner, and  lowering  his  face  to  avoid  the  earnest  looks  of  his  com- 
panion. 

“And  who  is  he?” 

“No  one,”  added  Harvey,  anxious  to  say  no  more. 

“Nothing,  and  no  one,  can  avail  but  little  now,”  said  the  ser- 
geant, rising  to  go ; “ lay  yourself  on  the  blanket  of  Mrs.  Flanagan, 
and  get  a little  sleep ; I will  call  you  betimes  in  the  morning ; and, 
from  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  I wish  I could  be  of  some  service  to 
you,  for  I dislike  greatly  to  see  a man  hung  up  like  a dog.” 

“Then  you  might  save  me  from  this  ignominious  death,”  said 
Birch,  springing  on  his  feet,  and  catcning  the  dragoon  by  the  arm 
— “And,  oh  ! what  will  I not  give  you  in  reward  !” 

“ In  what  manner  ?”  asked  the  sergeant,  looking  at  him  in  sur- 
prise. 

“ See,”  said  the  pedler,  producing  several  guineas  from  his  per- 
son ; “ these  are  nothing  to  what  I will  give  you,  if  you  will  assist 
me  to  escape.” 

“Were  you  the  man  whose  picture  is  on  the  gold,  I would 
not  listen  to  such  a crime,”  said  the  trooper,  throwing  the  money 
on  the  floor  with  contempt.  “ Go  — go  — poor  wretch,  and  make 
your  peace  with  God ; for  it  is  he  only  that  can  be  of  service  to 
you  now.” 

The  sergeant  took  up  the  lantern,  and,  with  some  indignation  in 
his  manner,  he  left  the  pedler  to  sorrowful  meditations  on  his 
approaching  fate.  Birch  sunk,  in  momentary  despair,  on  the  pallet 
of  Betty,  while  his  guardian  proceeded  to  give  the  necessary  instruc- 
tions to  the  sentinels  for  his  safe-keeping. 

Hollister  concluded  his  injunctions  to  the  man  in  the  shed,  by 
saying,  “ Your  life  will  depend  on  his  not  escaping.  Let  none  enter 
or  vpiit  the  room  till  morning.” 


232 


THE  SPY. 


u But,”  said  the  trooper,  “ my  orders  are,  to  let  the  washerwoman 
pass  in  and  out,  as  she  pleases.” 

“Well,  let  her  then;  but  be  careful  that  this  wily  pedler  does 
not  get  out  in  the  folds  of  her  petticoats.”  He  then  continued  his 
walk,  giying  similar  orders  to  each  of  the  sentinels  near  the  spot. 

For  some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  sergeant,  silence  pre- 
vailed within  the  solitary  prison  of  the  pedler,  until  the  dragoon  at 
his  door  heard  his  loud  breathings,  which  soon  rose  into  the  regular 
cadence  of  one  in  a deep  sleep.  The  man  continued  walking  his 
post,  musing  on  an  indifference  to  life  which  could  allow  nature  its 
customary  rest,  even  on  the  threshold  of  the  grave.  Harvey  Birch 
had,  however,  been  a name  too  long  held  in  detestation  by  every 
man  in  the  corps,  to  suffer  any  feelings  of  commiseration  to  mingle 
with  these  reflections  of  the  sentinel ; for,  notwithstanding  the  con- 
sideration and  kindness  manifested  by  the  sergeant,  there  probably 
was  not  another  man  of  his  rank  in  the  whole  party  who  would  have 
discovered  equal  benevolence  to  the  prisoner,  or  who  would  not 
have  imitated  the  veteran  in  rejecting  the  bribe,  although  probably 
from  a less  worthy  motive.  There  was  something  of  disappointed 
vengeance  in  the  feelings  *of  the  man  who  watched  the  door  of  the 
room  on  finding  his  prisoner  enjoying  a sleep  of  which  he  himself 
was  deprived,  and  at  his  exhibiting  such  obvious  indifference  to  the 
utmost  penalty  that  military  rigour  could  inflict  on  all  his  treason 
to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  America.  More  than  once  he  felt 
prompted  to  disturb  the  repose  of  the  pedler  by  taunts  and  revilings; 
but  the  discipline  he  was  under,  and  a secret  sense  of  shame  at  the 
brutality  of  the  act,  held  him  in  subjection. 

His  meditations  were,  however,  soon  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  the  washerwoman,  who  came  staggering  through  the  door  that 
communicated  with  the  kitchen,  muttering  execrations  against  the 
servants  of  the  officers,  who,  by  their  waggery,  had  disturbed  her 
slumbers  before  the  fire.  The  sentinel  understood  enough  of  her 
maledictions  to  comprehend  the  case ; but  all  his  efforts  to  enter  into 


THE  SPY. 


233 


conversation  with  the  enraged  woman  were  useless,  and  he  suffered 
her  to  enter  her  room  without  explaining  that  it  contained  another 
inmate.  The  noise  of  her  huge  frame  falling  on  the  bed  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a silence  that  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  renewed  respi- 
ration of  the  pedler,  and  within  a few  minutes  Harvey  continued  to 
breathe  aloud,  as  if  no  interruption  had  occurred.  The  relief  arrived 
at  this  moment.  The  sentinel,  who  felt  nettled  at  the  contempt  of 
the  pedler,  after  communicating  his  orders,  while  he  was  retiring, 
exclaimed  to  his  successor  — 

“ You  may  keep  yourself  warm  by  dancing  John;  the  pedler  spy 
has  tuned  his  fiddle,  you  hear,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before  Betty 
will  strike  up,  in  her  turn.” 

The  joke  was  followed  by  a general  laugh  from  the  party,  who 
marched  on  in  the  performance  of  their  duty.  At  this  instant  the 
door  of  the  prison  was  opened,  and  Betty  reappeared,  staggering  back 
again  toward  her  former  quarters. 

“ Stop,”  said  the  sentinel,  catching  her  by  her  clothes ; “ are  you 
sure  the  spy  is  not  in  your  pocket?” 

“ Can’t  you  hear  the  rascal  snoring  in  my  room,  you  dirty  black- 
guard ?”  sputtered  Betty,  her  whole  frame  shaking  with  rage ; “ and 
is  it  so  yee  would  sarve  a dacent  famale,  that  a man  must  be  put  to 
sleep  in  the  room  wid  her,  yee  rapscallion  ?” 

' “ Pooh  ! do  you  mind  a fellow  who ’s  to  be  hanged  in  the  morn- 
ing ? You  see  he  sleeps  already ; — to-morrow  he  T1  take  a longer 
nap.” 

“ Hands  off,  yee  villain !”  cried  the  washerwoman,  relinquishing 
a small  bottle  that  the  trooper  had  succeeded  in  wresting  from  her. 
“ But  I'll  go  to  Captain  Jack,  and  know  if  it’s  orders  to  put  a 
hang-gallows  spy  in  my  room;  ay,  even  in  my  widowed  bed,  you 
kief!” 

“Silence,  old  Jezebel !”  said  the  fellow  with  a laugh,  taking  the 
bottle  from  his  mouth  to  breathe,  “or  you  will  wake  the  genii;  man 
— would  you  disturb  a man  in  his  last  sleep  ?” 


2 34 


THE  SPY. 


“I'll  awake  Captain  Jack,  you  reprobate  villain,  and  bring  him 
here  to  see  me  righted : he  will  punish  yee  all,  for  imposing  on  a 
dacent  widowed  body,  you  marauder  l” 

With  these  words,  which  only  extorted  a laugh  from  the  sentinel, 
Betty  staggered  round  the  end  of  the  building,  and  made  the  best  of 
her  way  towards  the  quarters  of  her  favourite,  Captain  John  Lawton, 
in  search  of  redress.  Neither  the  officer  nor  the  woman,  however, 
appeared  during  the  night,  and  nothing  further  occurred  to  disturb 
the  repose  of  the  pedler,  who,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  different 
sentinels,  continued  by  his  breathing  to  manifest  how  little  the  gal- 
lows could  affect  his  slumbers. 


CHAPTER  XYHT. 


u A Daniel  come  to  judgment ! yea,  a Daniel ! — 

O wise  young  judge,  how  I do  honour  thee  !” 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

The  Skinners  followed  Captain  Lawton  with  alacrity,  towards  the 
quarters  occupied  by  the  troop  of  that  gentleman.  The  captain  of 
dragoons  had  on  all  occasions  manifested  so  much  zeal  for  the  cause 
in  which  he  was  engaged,  was  so  regardless  of  personal  danger  when 
opposed  to  the  enemy,  and  his  stature  and  stern  countenance  contri- 
buted so  much  to  render  him  terrific,  that  these  qualities  had,  in 
some  measure,  procured  him  a reputation  distinct  from  the  corps  in 
which  he  served.  His  intrepidity  was  mistaken  for  ferocity ; and 
his  hasty  zeal,  for  the  natural  love  of  cruelty.  On  the  other  hand, 
a few  acts  of  clemency,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  of  discriminating 
justice,  had,  with  one  portion  of  the  community,  acquired  for  Dun- 
woodie  the  character  of  undue  forbearance.  It  is  seldom  that  either 
popular  condemnation  or  popular  applause  falls,  exactly  in  the  quan- 
tities earned,  where  it  is  merited. 

While  in  the  presence  of  the  Major,  the  leader  of  the  gang  had 
felt  himself  under  that  restraint  which  vice  must  ever  experience  in 
the  company  of  acknowledged  virtue ; but  having  left  the  house,  he 
at  once  conceived  that  he  was  under  the  protection  of  a congenial 
spirit.  There  was  a gravity  in  the  manner  of  Lawton,  that  deceived 
most  of  those  who  did  not  know  him  intimately ; and  it  was  a com- 
mon saying  in  his  troop,  “ that  when  the  captain  laughed,  he  was 


236 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


Bure  to  punish.”  Drawing  near  his  conductor  therefore,  the  leader 
commenced  a confidential  dialogue  — 

“’Tis  always  well  for  a man  to  know  his  friends  from  his  ene- 
mies,” said  the  half-licensed  freebooter. 

To  this  prefatory  observation  the  captain  made  no  other  reply  than 
a sound,  which  the  other  interpreted  into  assent. 

“ I suppose  Major  Dunwoodie  has  the  good  opinion  of  Washing- 
ton ?”  continued  the  Skinner,  in  a tone  that  rather  expressed  a doubt 
than  asked  a question. 

“ There  are  some  who  think  so.” 

“ Many  of  the  friends  of  Congress  in  this  county,”  the  man  pro- 
ceeded, “ wish  the  horse  was  led  by  some  other  officer ; for  my  part, 
if  I could  only  be  covered  by  a troop  now  and  then,  I could  do  many 
an  important  piece  of  service  to  the  cause,  to  which  this  capture  of 
the  pedler  would  be  a trifle.” 

“ Indeed  ! such  as  what  ?” 

u For  the  matter  of  that,  it  could  be  made  as  profitable  to  the 
officer  as  it  would  be  to  us  who  did  it,”  said  the  Skinner,  with  a look 
of  the  most  significant  meaning. 

u But  how  ?”  asked  Lawton,  a little  impatiently,  and  quickening 
his  step  to  get  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  rest  of  the  party. 

“ Why,  near  the  royal  lines,  even  under  the  very  guns  of  the 
heights,  might  be  good  picking  if  we  had  a force  to  guard  us  from 
De  Lancey’s*  men,  and  to  cover  our  retreat  from  being  cut  off  by 
the  way  of  King’s-bridge.” 

* The  partisan  corps,  called  Cow-boys  in  the  parlance  of  the  country,  was 
commanded  by  a Colonel  De  Lancey.  This  gentleman,  for  such  he  was  by 
birth  and  education,  rendered  himself  very  odious  to  the  Americans  by  his 
fancied  cruelty,  though  there  is  no  evidence  of  his  being  guilty  of  any  acts 
unusual  in  this  species  of  warfare. 

Colonel  De  Lance)'-  belonged  to  a family  of  the  highest  consequence  in  the 
American  colonies,  his  uncle  having  died  in  the.  administration  of  the  go- 
vernment  of  that  of  New  York.  He  should  not  be  confounded  with  other 


THE  SPY, 


237 


<(  I thought  the  Refugees  took  all  that  game  to  themselves.” 

<e  They  do  a little  at  it ; hut  they  are  obliged  to  be  sparing  among 
their  own  people.  I have  been  down  twice,  under  an  agreement 
with  them : the  first  time  they  acted  with  honour ; but  the  second 
they  came  upon  us  and  drove  us  off,  and  took  the  plunder  to  them- 
selves.” 

“ That  was  a very  dishonourable  act,  indeed ; I wonder  that  an 
honourable  man  will  associate  with  such  rascals.” 

u It  is  necessary  to  have  an  understanding  with  some  of  them,  or 
we  might  be  taken;  but  a man  without  honour  is  worse  than  a 
brute.  Do  you  think  Major  Dunwoodie  is  to  be  trusted  ?” 
u You  mean  on  honourable  principles?” 

u Certainly ; you  know  Arnold  was  thought  well  of  until  the 
royal  major  was  taken.” 

“ Why,  I do  not  believe  Dunwoodie  would  sell  his  command  as 
irnold  wished  to  do;  neither  do  I think  him  exactly  trustworthy  in 
a delicate  business  like  this  of  yours.” 

“That’s  just  my  notion,”  rejoined  the  Skinner,  with  a self- 
approving  manner  that  showed  how  much  he  was  satisfied  with  his 
jwn  estimate  of  character. 

By  this  time  they  had  arrived  at  a better  sort  of  farm-house,  the 
very  extensive  out-buildings  of  which  were  in  tolerable  repair,  for 
the  times.  The  barns  were  occupied  by  the  men  of  the  troop,  while 
the  horses  were  arranged  under  the  long  sheds  which  protected  the 
yard  from  the  cold  north  wind.  The  latter  were  quietly  eating,  with 
saddles  on  their  backs  and  bridles  thrown  on  their  necks,  ready  to 
be  bitted  and  mounted  at  the  shortest  warning.  Lawton  excused 
himself  fi  »r  a moment,  and  entered  his  quarters.  He  soon  returned, 

gentlemen  of  his  name  and  family,  many  of  whom  served  in  the  royal  army. 
His  cousin,  Colonel  Oliver  De  Lancey,  was,  at  the  time  of  our  tale,  adjutant- 
general  of  the  British  forces  in  America,  having  succeeded  to  the  unfortunate 
Andre.  The  Cow-boys  were  sometimes  called  Refugees , in  consequence  of 
their  having  taken  refuge  under  the  protection  of  the  crown. 


238 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


holding  in  his  hand  one  of  the  common  stable-lanterns,  and  led  the 
way  towards  a large  orchard  that  surrounded  the  buildings  on  three 
sides.  The  gang  followed  the  trooper  in  silence,  believing  his 
object  to  be  facility  of  communicating  further  on  this  interesting 
topic,  without  the  danger  of  being  overheard. 

Approaching  the  Captain,  the  Skinner  renewed  the  discourse, 
with  a view  of  establishing  further  confidence,  and  of  giving  his 
companion  a more  favourable  opinion  of  his  own  intellects. 

“Do  you  think  the  colonies  will  finally  get  the  better  of  the 
king  V ’ he  enquired,  with  a little  of  the  importance  of  a politician. 

“ Get  the  better  !”  echoed  the  Captain,  with  impetuosity  — then 
checking  himself,  he  continued,  “ no  doubt  they  will.  If  the  French 
will  give  us  arms  and  money,  we  can  drive  out  the  royal  troops  in 
six  months.” 

“Well,  so  I hope  we  shall  soon;  and  then  we  shall  have  a free 
government,  and  we,  who  fight  for  it,  will  get  our  reward.” 

“ Oh  !”  cried  Lawton,  “ your  claims  will  be  indisputable ; while 
all  these  vile  Tories  who  live  at  home  peaceably,  to  take  care  of  their 
farms,  will  be  held  in  the  contempt  they  merit.  You  have  no  farm, 
I suppose  ?” 

“Not  yet  — but  it  will  go  hard  if  I do  not  find  one  before  the 
peace  is  made.” 

“ Right ; study  your  own  interests,  and  you  study  the  interests 
of  your  country;  press  the  point  of  your  own  services,  and  rail  at 
the  Tories,  and  I ’ll  bet  my  spurs  against  a rusty  nail  that  you  get 
to  be  a county  clerk  at  least.” 

‘ Don’t  you  think  Paulding’s*  party  were  fools  in  not  letting  the 

* The  author  must  hare  intended  some  allusion  to  an  individual,  which  is 
too  local  to  be  understood  by  the  general  reader. 

Andre,  as  is  well  known,  was  arrested  by  three  countrymen,  who  were  on 
the  look-out  for  predatory  parties  of  the  enemy : the  principal  man  of  this 
party  was  named  Pa  ulding.  The  disinterested  manner  in  which  they  refused 
the  offers  of  their  captive  is  matter  of  history. 


THE  SPY. 


230 


royal  adjutant-general  escape  ?”  said  the  man,  thrown  off  his  guard 
by  the  freedom  of  the  Captain’s  manner. 

“ Fools !”  cried  Lawton,  with  a bitter  laugh ; “ ay,  fools  indeed ; 
King  Greorge  would  have  paid  them  better,  for  he  is  richer.  He 
would  have  made  them  gentlemen  for  their  lives.  But,  thank  Grod ! 
there  is  a pervading  spirit  in  the  people  that  seems  miraculous. 
Men  who  have  nothing,  act  as  if  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  depended 
on  their  fidelity ; all  are  not  villains  like  yourself,  or  we  should  have 
been  slaves  to  England  years  ago.” 

“ How  !”  exclaimed  the  Skinner,  starting  back,  and  dropping  his 
musket  to  the  level  of  the  other’s  breast ; “ am  I betrayed,  and  are 
you  my  enemy?” 

“ Miscreant !”  shouted  Lawton,  his  sabre  ringing  in  its  steel  scab- 
bard, as  he  struck  the  musket  of  the  fellow  from  his  hands,  “ offer 
but  again  to  point  your  gun  at  me,  and  I’ll  cleave  you  to  the 
middle.” 

“And  you  will  not  pay  us,  then,  Captain  Lawton  ?”  said  the  Skin- 
ner, trembling  in  every  joint,  for  just  then  he  saw  a party  of  mounted 
dragoons  silently  encircling  the  whole  party. 

“ Oh ! pay  you  — yes,  you  shall  have  the  full  measure  of  your 
reward.  There  is  the  money  that  Colonel  Singleton  sent  down  for 
the  captors  of  the  spy/'  throwing  a bag  of  guineas  with  disdain  at 
the  other’s  feet.  “ But  ground  your  arms,  you  rascals,  and  see  that 
the  money  is  truly  told.” 

The  intimidated  band  did  as  they  were  ordered ; and  while  they 
were  eagerly  employed  in  this  pleasing  avocation,  a few  of  Lawton’s 
men  privately  knocked  the  flints  out  of  their  muskets. 

“Well,”  cried  the  impatient  captain,  “is  it  right?  — have  you 
the  promised  reward  ?” 

“There  is  just  the  money,”  said  the  leader;  “and  we  will  now 
go  to  our  homes,  with  your  permission.” 

“Hold!  so  much  to  redeem  our  promise  — now  for  justice;  we 
pay  you  for  taking  a spy,  but  we  punish  you  for  burning,  robbing, 


240 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


and  murdering.  Seize  them,  my  lads,  and  give  each  of  them  the 
law  of  Moses  — forty,  save  one.” 

This  command  was  given  to  no  unwilling  listeners ; and  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  the  Skinners  were  stripped  and  fastened,  by  the 
h alters  of  the  party,  to  as  many  of  the  apple-trees  as  were  necessary 
to  furnish  one  to  each  of  the  gang.  Swords  were  quickly  drawn, 
and  fifty  branches  were  cut  from  the  trees,  like  magic : from  these 
were  selected  a few  of  the  most  supple  of  the  twigs,  and  a willing 
dragoon  was  soon  found  to  wield  each  of  the  weapons.  Captain 
Lawton  gave  the  word,  humanely  cautioning  his  men  not  to  exceed 
the  discipline  prescribed  by  the  Mosaic  law,  and  the  uproar  of  Babel 
commenced  in  the  orchard.  The  cries  of  the  leader  were  easily  to  be 
distinguished  above  those  of  his  men ; a circumstance  which  might 
be  accounted  for,  by  Captain  Lawton's  reminding  his  corrector  that 
he  had  to  deal  with  an  officer,  and  he  should  remember  and  pay  him 
unusual  honour.  The  flagellation  was  executed  with  great  neatness 
and  despatch,  and  it  was  distinguished  by  no  irregularity,  excepting 
that  none  of  the  disciplinarians  began  to  count  until  they  had  tried 
their  whips  by  a dozen  or  more  blows,  by  the  way,  as  they  said  them- 
selves, of  finding  out  the  proper  places  to  strike.  As  soon  as  this 
summary  operation  was  satisfactorily  completed,  Lawton  directed  his 
men  to  leave  the  Skinners  to  replace  their  own  clothes,  and  to  mount 
their  horses ; for  they  were  a party  who  had  been  detached  for  the 
purpose  of  patrolling  lower  down  in  the  county. 

“ You  see,  my  friend,”  said  the  Captain  to  the  leader  of  the  Skin- 
ners, after  he  had  prepared  himself  to  depart,  “ I can  cover  you  to 
some  purpose,  when  necessary.  If  we  meet  often,  you  will  be  co- 
vered with  scars,  which,  if  not  very  honourable,  will  at  least  be  me- 
rited.” 

The  fellow  made  no  reply.  He  was  busy  with  his  musket,  and 
hastening  his  comrades  to  march ; when,  every  thing  being  ready, 
they  proceeded  sullenly  towards  some  rocks  at  no  great  distance, 
which  were  overhung  by  a deep  wood.  The  moon  was  just  rising, 


THE  SPY. 


241 


and  the  group  of  dragoons  could  easily  be  distinguished  where  they 
had  been  left.  Suddenly  turning,  the  whole  gang  levelled  their 
pieces  and  drew  the  triggers.  The  action  was  noticed,  and  the  snap- 
ping of  the  locks  was  heard  by  the  soldiers,  who  returned  their  futile 
attempt  with  a laugh  of  derision,  the  captain  crying  aloud  — 

“Ah  ! rascals,  I knew  you,  and  have  taken  away  your  flints/ ’ 
“You  should  have  taken  away  that  in  my  pouch  too/'  shouted 
the  leader,  firing  his  gun  in  the  next  instant.  The  bullet  grazed  the 
ear  of  Lawton,  who  laughed  as  he  shook  his  head,  saying,  “A  miss 
was  as  good  as  a mile."  One  of  the  dragoons  had  seen  the  prepara- 
tions of  the  Skinner  — who  had  been  left  alone  by  the  rest  of  his 
gang,  as  soon  as  they  had  made  their  abortive  attempt  at  revenge  — 
and  was  in  the  act  of  plunging  his  spurs  into  his  horse  as  the  fellow 
fired.  The  distance  to  the  rocks  was  but  small,  yet  the  speed  of  the 
horse  compelled  the  leader  to  abandon  both  money  and  musket,  to 
effect  his  escape.  The  soldier  returned  with  his  prizes,  and  offered 
them  to  the  acceptance  of  his  captain ; but  Lawton  rejected  them, 
telling  the  man  to  retain  them  himself,  until  the  rascal  appeared  in 
person  to  claim  his  property.  It  would  have  been  a business  of  no 
small  difficulty  for  any  tribunal  then  existing  in  the  new  states  to 
have  enforced  a restitution  of  the  money ; for  it  was  shortly  after 
most  equitably  distributed,  by  the  hands  of  Sergeant  Hollister, 
among  a troop  of  horse.  The  patrol  departed,  and  the  Captain 
slowly  returned  to  his  quarters,  with  an  intention  of  retiring  to  rest. 
A figure  moving  rapidly  among  the  trees,  in  the  direction  of  the 
wood  whither  the  Skinners  had  retired,  caught  his  eye,  and,  wheeling 
on  his  heel,  the  cautious  partisan  approached  it,  and,  to  his  astonish- 
ment, saw  the  washerwoman  at  that  hour  of  the  night,  and  in  such 
a place. 

“ What,  Betty ! walking  in  your  sleep,  or  dreaming  while  awake  ?" 
cried  the  trooper;  “are  you  not  afraid  of  meeting  with  the  ghost  of 
ancient  Jenny  in  this  her  favourite  pasture?" 

“ Ah,  sure  Captain  Jack,"  returned  the  sutler  in  her  native 

11 


242 


THE  SPY. 


accent,  and  reeling  in  a manner  that  made  it  difficult  for  her  to  raise 
her  head,  “ it  ’&  not  Jenny,  or  her  ghost,  that  I ’m  saaking,  but  some 
yarbs  for  the  wounded.  And  it ’s  the  vartue  of  the  rising  moon,  as 
it  jist  touches  them,  that  I want.  They  grow  under  yon  rocks,  and 
T must  hasten,  or  the  charm  will  lose  its  power.” 

Fool,  you  are  fitter  for  your  pallet  than  for  wandering  among 
those  rocks : a fall  from  one  of  them  would  break  your  bones ; 
besides,  the  Skinners  have  fled  to  those  heights,  and  should  you  fall 
in  with  them,  they  would  revenge  on  you  a sound  flogging  they  have 
just  received  from  me.  Better  return,  old  woman,  and  finish  your 
nap;  we  march  in  the  morning.” 

Betty  disregarded  his  advice,  and  continued  her  devious  route  to 
the  hill-side.  For  an  instant,  as  Lawton  mentioned  the  Skinners, 
she  had  paused,  but  immediately  resuming  her  course,  she  was  soon 
out  of  sight,  among  the  trees. 

As  the  Captain  entered  his  quarters,  the  sentinel  at  the  door 
enquired  if  he  had  met  Mrs.  Flanagan,  and  added  that  she  had  passed 
tnere,  filling  the  air  with  threats  against  her  tormentors  at  the 
“ Hotel,”  and  enquiring  for  the  Captain  in  search  of  redress.  Law- 
ton  heard  the  man  in  astonishment  — appeared  struck  with  a new 
idea  — walked  several  yards  towards  the  orchard,  and  returned  again; 
for  several  minutes  he  paced  rapidly  to  and  fro  before  the  door  of  the 
house,  and  then  hastily  entering  it,  he  threw  himself  on  a bed  in  his 
clothes,  and  was  soon  in  a profound  sleep. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  gang  of  marauders  had  successfully  gained 
the  summit  of  the  rocks,  and,  scattering  in  every  direction,  they 
buried  themselves  in  the  depths  of  the  wood.  Finding,  however, 
there  was  no  pursuit,  which  indeed  would  have  been  impracticable 
for  horse,  the  leader  ventured  to  call  his  band  together  with  a 
whistle,  and  in  a short  time  he  succeeded  in  collecting  his  discom- 
fited party,  at  a point  where  they  had  but  little  to  apprehend  from 
any  enemy. 

u Well,”  said  one  of  the  fellows,  while  a fire  was  lighting  to  protect 


the  spy. 


243 


them  against  the  air,  which  was  becoming  severely  cold,  “ there  is 
an  end  to  our  business  in  West-Chester.  The  Virginia  horse  will 
soon  make  the  county  too  hot  to  hold  us.” 

“ I T1  have  his  blood,”  muttered  the  leader,  “ if  I die  for  it  the 
next  instant.” 

“ Oh,  you  are  very  valiant  here,  in  the  wood,”  cried  the  other, 
with  a savage  laugh ; “ why  did  you,  who  boast  so  much  of  your 
aim,  miss  your  man,  at  thirty  yards  ?” 

“;Twas  the  horseman  that  disturbed  me,  or  I would  have  ended 
this  Captain  Lawton  on  the  spot;  besides,  the  cold  had  set  me 
a shivering,  and  I had  no  longer  a steady  hand.” 

“ Say  it  was  fear,  and  you  will  tell  no  lie,”  said  his  comrade  with 
a sneer.  “ For  my  part,  I think  I shall  never  be  cold  again ; my 
back  burns  as  if  a thousand  gridirons  were  laid  on  it.” 

“And  you  would  tamely  submit  to  such  usage,  and  kiss  the  rod 
that  beat  you?” 

“As  for  kissing  the  rod,  it  would  be  no  easy  matter.  Mine  was 
broken  into  so  small  pieces,  on  my  own  shoulders,  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  one  big  enough  to  kiss ; but  I would  rather  submit 
to  lose  half  my  skin,  than  to  lose  the  whole  of  it,  with  my  ears  in 
the  bargain.  And  such  will  be  our  fates,  if  we  tempt  this  mad  Vir- 
ginian again.  God  willing,  I would  at  any  time  give  him  enough 
of  my  hide  to  make  a pair  of  jack-boots,  to  get  out  of  his  hands  with 
the  remainder.  If  you  had  known  when  you  were  well  off,  you 
would  have  stuck  to  Major  Dunwoodie,  who  don’t  know  half  so  much 
of  our  evil-doings.” 

“ Silence,  you  talking  fool !”  shouted  the  enraged  leader;  “your 
. prating  is  sufficient  to  drive  a man  mad ; is  it  not  enough  to  be 
robbed  and  beaten,  but  we  must  be  tormented  with  your  folly  ? — 
help  to  get  out  the  provisions,  if  any  is  left  in  the  wallet,  and  try 
and  stop  your  mouth  with  food.” 

This  injunction  was  obeyed,  and  the  whole  party,  amidst  sundry 
groans  and  contortions,  excited  by  the  disordered  state  of  their  backs, 


244 


THE  SPY. 


made  their  arrangements  for  a scanty  meal.  A large  fire  of  dry 
wood  was  burning  in  the  cleft  of  a rock,  and  at  length  they  began 
to  recover  from  the  confusion  of  their  flight,  and  to  collect  their 
scattered  senses.  Their  hunger  being  appeased,  and  many  of  their 
garments  thrown  aside  for  the  better  opportunity  of  dressing  their 
wounds,  the  gang  began  to  plot  measures  of  revenge.  An  hour  was 
spent  in  this  manner,  and  various  expedients  were  proposed ; but  as 
they  all  depended  on  personal  prowess  for  their  success,  and  were 
attended  by  great  danger,  they  were  of  course  rejected.  There  was 
no  possibility  of  approaching  the  troops  by  surprise,  their  vigilance 
being  ever  on  the  watch ; and  the  hope  of  meeting  Captain  Lawton, 
away  from  his  men,  was  equally  forlorn,  for  the  trooper  was  con- 
stantly engaged  in  his  duty,  and  his  movements  were  so  rapid,  that 
any  opportunity  of  meeting  with  him,  at  all,  must  depend  greatly 
on  accident.  Besides,  it  was  by  no  means  certain,  that  such  an  in- 
terview would  result  happily  for  themselves.  The  cunning  of  the 
trooper  was  notorious;  and  rough  and  broken  as  was  West-Chester, 
the  fearless  partisan  was  known  to  take  desperate  leaps,  and  stone 
walls  were  but  slight  impediments  to  the  charges  of  the  Southern 
horse.  Gradually,  the  conversation  took  another  direction,  until  the 
gang  determined  on  a plan  which  should  both  revenge  themselves, 
and  at  the  same  time  offer  some  additional  stimulus  to  their  exer- 
tions. The  whole  business  was  accurately  discussed,  the  time  fixed, 
and  the  manner  adopted ; in  short,  nothing  was  wanting  to  the  pre- 
vious arrangement  for  this  deed  of  villany,  when  they  were  aroused 
by  a voice  calling  aloud — 

“ This  way,  Captain  Jack — here  are  the  rascals  ating  by  a fire  — 
this  way,  and  murder  the  tieves  where  they  sit  — quick,  lave  your 
horses  and  shoot  your  pistols !” 

This  terrific  summons  was  enough  to  disturb  all  the  philosophy 
of  the  gang.  Springing  on  their  feet,  they  rushed  deeper  into  the 
wood,  and  having  already  agreed  upon  a place  of  rendezvous  pre- 
viously to  their  intended  expedition.,  they  dispersed  towards  the  four 


THE  SPY. 


245 


quarters  of  the  heavens.  Certain  sounds  and  different  voices  were 
heard  calling  on  each  other,  but  as  the  marauders  were  well  trained 
to  speed  of  foot,  they  were  soon  lost  in  the  distance. 

It  was  not  long  before  Betty  Flanagan  emerged  from  the  dark- 
ness, and  very  coolly  took  possession  of  what  the  Skinners  had  left 
behind  them  ; namely,  food,  and  divers  articles  of  dress.  The  wash- 
erwoman deliberately  seated  herself,  and  made  a meal  with  great 
apparent  satisfaction.  For  an  hour,  she  sat  with  her  head  upon  her 
hand,  in  deep  musing;  then  she  gathered  together  such  articles  of 
the  clothes,  as  seemed  to  suit  her  fancy,  and  retired  into  the  wood, 
leaving  the  fire  to  throw  its  glimmering  light  on  the  adjacent  rocks, 
until  its  last  brand  died  away,  and  the  place  was  abandoned  to  soli- 
tude and  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


No  longer  then  perplex  the  breast  — 

When  thoughts  torment,  the  first  are  best; 

‘Tis  mad  to  go,  ’tis  death  to  stay! 

Away,  to  Orra,  haste  away. 

Lapland  Love  Song. 

While  his  comrades  were  sleeping,  in  perfect  forgetfulness  of  their 
hardships  and  dangers,  the  slumbers  of  Dunwoodie  were  broken  and 
unquiet.  After  spending  a night  of  restlessness,  he  arose,  unre- 
freslied,  from  the  rude  bed  where  he  had  thrown  himself  in  his 
clothes,  and,  without  awaking  any  of  the  group  around  him,  he  wan- 
dered into  the  open  air  in  search  of  relief.  The  soft  rays  of  the 
moon  were  just  passing  away  in  the  more  distinct  light  of  the  morn- 
ing ; the  wind  had  fallen,  and  the  rising  mists  gave  the  promise  of 
another  of  those  autumnal  days,  which,  in  this  unstable  climate, 
succeed  a<  tempest  with  the  rapid  transitions  of  magic.  The  hour 
had  not  yet  arrived  when  he  intended  moving  from  his  present  posi- 
tion; and,  willing  to  allow  his  warriors  all  the  refreshment  that 
circumstances  would  permit,  he  strolled  towards  the  scene  of  the 
Skinners'  punishment,  musing  upon  the  embarrassments  of  his  situ- 
ation, and  uncertain  how  he  should  reconcile  his  sense  of  duty  with 
his  love.  Although  Dunwoodie  himself  placed  the  most  implicit 
reliance  on  the  Captain's  purity  of  intention,  he  was  by  no  means 
assured  that  a board  of  officers  would  be  equally  credulous ; and, 
independently  of  all  feelings  of  private  regard,  he  felt  certain  that 
with  the  execution  of  Henry  would  be  destroyed  all  hopes  of  a union 
with  his  sister.  He  had  despatched  an  officer,  the  preceding  evening, 


THE  SPY. 


247 


to  Colonel  Singleton,  who  was  in  command  of  the  advance  posts, 
reporting  the  capture  of  the  British  captain,  and,  after  giving  his 
own  opinion  of  his  innocence,  requesting  orders  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  he  was  to  dispose  of  his  prisoner.  These  orders  might  be 
expected,  every  hour,  and  his  uneasiness  increased,  in  proportion  as 
the  moment  approached  when  his  friend  might  be  removed  from  his 
protection.  In  this  disturbed  state  of  mind,  the  Major  wandered 
through  the  orchard,  and  was  stopped  in  his  walk  by  arriving  at  the 
base  of  those  rocks  which  had  protected  the  Skinners  in  their  flight 
before  he  was  conscious  whither  his  steps  had  carried  him.  He  was 
about  to  turn,  and  retrace  his  path  to  his  quarters,  when  he  was 
startled  by  a voice,  bidding  him — 

“ Stand  or  die !” 

Dunwoodie  turned  in  amazement,  and  beheld  the  figure  of  a man 
placed  at  a little  distance  above  him  on  a shelving  rock,  with  a 
musket  levelled  at  himself.  The  light  was  not  yet  sufficiently 
powerful  to  reach  the  recesses  of  that  gloomy  spot,  and  a second  look 
was  necessary  before  he  discovered,  to  his  astonishment,  that  the 
pedler  stood  befere  him.  Comprehending,  in  an  instant,  the  danger 
of  his  situation,  and  disdaining  to  implore  mercy  or  to  retreat,  had 
the  latter  been  possible,  the  youth  cried  firmly — 

“ If  I am  to  be  murdered,  fire ! I will  never  become  your 
prisoner.” 

“ No,  Major  Dunwoodie,”  said  Birch,  lowering  his  musket,  “ it  is 
neither  my  intention  to  capture  nor  to  slay.” 

“ What  then  would  you  have,  mysterious  being  ?”  said  Dun- 
woodie, hardly  able  to  persuade  himself  that  the  form  he  sawr  was 
not  a creature  of  the  imagination. 

“Your  good  opinion,”  answered  the  pedler,  with  emotion  ; “ 1 
would  wish  all  good  men  to  judge  me  with  lenity.” 

“ To  you  it  must  be  indifferent  what  may  be  the  judgment  of 
men ; for  you  seem  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  their  sentence.” 
u Cod  spares  the  lives  of  his  servants  to  his  own  time.”  said  the 


248 


THE  SPY. 


pedler,  solemnly  : “ a few  hours  ago  I was  your  prisoner,  and  threat- 
ened with  the  gallows;  now  you  are  mine;  but,  Major  Dunwoodie, 
you  are  free.  There  are  men  abroad  who  would  treat  you  less 
kindly.  Of  what  service  would  that  sword  be  to  you  against  my 
weapon  and  a steady  hand  ? Take  the  advice  of  one  who  has  never 
harmed  you,  and  who  never  will.  Do  not  trust  yourself  in  the 
skirts  of  any  wood,  unless  in  company  and  mounted.” 

“ And  have  you  comrades,  who  have  assisted  you  to  escape,  and 
who  are  less  generous  than  yourself?” 

“No  — no,  I am  alone  truly — none  know  me  but  my  God  and 
Him .” 

“ And  who  ?”  asked  the  Major,  with  an  interest  he  could  not 
control. 

“ None,”  continued  the  pedler,  recovering  his  composure.  “ But 
such  is  not  your  case,  Major  Dunwoodie;  you  are  young  and  happy; 
there  are  those  that  are  dear  to  you,  and  such  are  not  far  away  — 
danger  is  near  them  you  love  most  — danger  within  and  without ; 
double  your  watchfulness — strengthen  your  patrols — and  be  silent. 
With  your  opinion  of  me,  should  I tell  you  more,  you  would  suspect 
an  ambush.  But  remember  and  guard  them  you  love  best.” 

The  pedler  discharged  the  musket  in  the  air,  and  threw  it  at  the 
feet  of  his  astonished  auditor.  When  surprise  and  the  smoke  al- 
lowed Dunwoodie  to  look  again  on  the  rock  where  he  had  stood,  the 
spot  was  vacant. 

The  youth  was  aroused  from  the  stupor,  which  had  been  created 
by  this  strange  scene,  by  the  trampling  of  horses,  and  the  sound  of 
the  bugles.  A patrol  was  drawn  to  the  spot  by  the  report  of  the 
musket,  and  the  alarm  had  been  given  to  the  corps.  Without  en- 
tering into  any  explanation  with  his  men,  the  Major  returned  quickly 
to  his  quarters,  where  he  found  the  whole  squadron  under  arms,  in 
battle  array,  impatiently  awaiting  the  appearance  of  their  leader. 
The  officer  whose  duty  it  was  to  superintend  such  matters,  had  di- 
rected a party  to  lower  the  sign  of  the  Hotel  Flanagan,  and  the  post 


THE  SPY. 


241) 


Was  already  arranged  for  the  execution  of  the  spy.  On  hearing  from 
the  Major  that  the  musket  was  discharged  by  himself,  and  was  pro- 
bably one  of  those  dropped  by  the  Skinners,  (for  by  this  time  Dun- 
woodie  had  learnt  the  punishment  inflicted  by  Lawton,  but  chose  to 
conceal  his  own  interview  with  Birch,)  his  officers  suggested  the 
propriety  of  executing  their  prisoner  before  they  inarched.  Unable 
to  believe  that  all  he  had  seen  was  not  a dream,  Dunwoodie,  followed 
by  many  of  his  officers,  and  preceded  by  Sergeant  Hollister,  went  to 
the  place  which  was  supposed  to  contain  the  pedler. 

u Well,  sir,”  said  the  Major  to  the  sentinel  who  guarded  the  door, 
“ I trust  you  have  your  prisoner  in  safety.” 

“ He  is  yet  asleep,”  replied  the  man,  “ and  he  makes  such  a noise, 
I could  hardly  hear  the  bugles  sound  the  alarm.” 
u Open  the  door,  and  bring  him  forth.” 

The  order  was  obeyed ; but,  to  the  utter  amazement  of  the  honest 
veteran  who  entered  the  prison,  he  found  the  room  in  no  little  dis- 
order — the  coat  of  the  pedler  where  his  body  ought  to  have  been, 
and  part  of  the  wardrobe  of  Betty  scattered  in  disorder  on  the  floor. 
The  washerwoman  herself  occupied  the  pallet,  in  profound  mental 
oblivion,  clad  as  when  last  seen,  excepting  a little  black  bonnet, 
which  she  so  constantly  wore,  that  it  was  commonly  thought  she 
made  it  perform  the  double  duty  of  both  day  and  night  cap.  The 
noise  of  their  entrance,  and  the  exclamations  of  the  party,  awoke  the 
woman. 

u Is  it  the  breakfast  that 's  wanting  ?”  said  Betty,  rubbing  her 
eyes ; “ faith,  yee  look  as  if  yee  would  ate  myself  — but  patience  a 
little,  darlings,  and  ye  T1  see  sich  a fry  as  never  was.” 

u Fry  !”  echoed  the  Sergeant,  forgetful  of  his  religious  philosophy, 
and  the  presence  of  his  officers;  “we'll  have  you  roasted,  Jezebel! 
— you've  helped  that  damn’d  pedler  to  escape.” 

u Jezebel  back  agin  in  your  teeth,  and  damn'd  pidler  too,  Mister 
Sargeant !”  cried  Betty,  who  was  easily  roused ; “ what  have  I to 
do  with  pidlers,  or  escapes  ? I might  have  been  a pidlcr's  lady,  and 

11  * 


250 


THE  SPY. 


worn  my  silks,  if  I ’d  had  Sawny  M’  Twill,  instead  of  tagging  at  the 
heels  of  a parcel  of  dragooning  rapscallions,  who  don’t  know  how  to 
trate  a lone  body  with  dacency.” 

“ The  fellow  has  left  my  Bible/’  said  the  veteran,  taking  the  book 
from  the  floor ; “ instead  of  spending  his  time  in  reading  it  to  pre- 
pare for  his  end,  like  a good  Christian,  he  has  been  busy  in  labour- 
ing to  escape.” 

“ And  who  would  stay  and  be  hanged  like  a*dog?”  cried  Betty, 
beginning  to  comprehend  the  case ; “ ’t  is  n’t  every  one  that ’s  born 
to  meet  with  sich  an  ind  — like  yourself,  Mister  Hollister.” 

“ Silence !”  said  Dunwoodie.  “ This  must  be  enquired  into 
closely,  gentlemen;  there  is  no  outlet  but  the  door,  and  there  he 
could  not  pass,  unless  the  sentinel  connived  at  his  escape,  or  was 
asleep  on  his  post : — call  up  the  guard.” 

As  these  men  were  not  paraded,  curiosity  had  already  drawn  them 
to  the  place,  and  they  one  and  all,  with  the  exception  of  him  before 
mentioned,  denied  that  any  person  had  passed  out.  The  individual 
in  question  acknowledged  that  Betty  had  gone  by  him,  but  pleaded 
his  orders  in  justification. 

“You  lie,  you  tief — you  lie!”  shouted  Betty,  who  had  impa- 
tiently listened  to  his  exculpation;  “would  yee  slanderize  a lone 
woman,  by  saying  she  walks  a camp  at  midnight  ? — Here  have  I 
been  slaaping  the  long  night,  swaatly  as  the  sucking  babe.” 

“Here,  sir,”  said  the  Sergeant,  turning  respectfully  to  Dun- 
woodie, “ is  something  written  in  my  Bible  that  was  not  in  it  before ; 
for  having  no  family  to  record,  I would  never  suffer  any  scribbling 
in  the  sacred  book.” 

One  of  the  officers  read  aloud  — “ These  certify , that  if  suffered 
to  get  free,  it  is  by  God’s  help  alone , to  whose  divine  aid  I humbly 
riccommind  myself.  I’m  forced  to  take  the  icoman’s  clothes , 
but  in  her  pocket  is  a ricompinse . — Witness  my  hand  — Harvey 
Birch.” 

“ What !”  roared  Betty,  “ has  the  tief  robbed  a lone  woman  of 


THE  BPY, 


251 


her  all  ? — hang  him  — catch  him  and  hang  him,  Major;  if  there ’s 
law  or  justice  in  the  land.’ 7 

“ Examine  your  pocket,”  said  one  of  the  youngsters,  who  was 
enjoying  the  scene,  careless  of  the  consequences. 

“ Ah  ! faith,”  cried  the  washerwoman,  producing  a guinea,  “ but 
he  is  a jewel  of  a pidler  ! Long  life  and  a brisk  trade  to  him,  say  I; 
he  is  wilcome  to  the  duds  — and  if  he  is  ever  hanged,  many  a biggei 
rogue  will  go  free.” 

Dunwoodie  turned  to  leave  the  apartment,  and  he  saw  Captain 
Lawton  standing  with  folded  arms,  contemplating  the  scene  in  pro- 
found silence.  His  manner,  so  different  from  his  usual  impetuosity 
and  zeal,  struck  his  commander  as  singular.  Their  eyes  met,  and 
they  walked  together  for  a few  minutes  in  close  conversation,  when 
Dunwoodie  returned,  and  dismissed  the  guard  to  their  place  of  ren- 
dezvous. Sergeant  Hollister,  however,  continued  along  wfith  Betty, 
who,  having  found  none  of  her  vestments  disturbed  but  such  as  the 
guinea  more  than  paid  for,  was  in  high  good-humour.  The  washer- 
woman had  for  a long  time  looked  on  the  veteran  with  the  eyes  of 
affection ; and  she  had  determined  within  herself  to  remove  certain 
delicate  objections  which  had  long  embarrassed  her  peculiar  situation, 
as  respected  the  corps,  by  making  the  Sergeant  the  successor  of  her 
late  husband.  For  some  time  past  th\<  trooper  had  seemed  to  flatter 
this  preference ; and  Betty,  conceiving  that  her  violence  might  have 
mortified  her  suitor,  was  determined  to  make  him  all  the  amends  in 
her  power.  Besides,  rough  and  uncouth  as  she  was,  the  washer- 
woman had  still  enough  of  the  sex  to  know  that  the  moments 
of  reconciliation  were  the  moments  of  power.  She  therefore  poured 
out  a glass  of  her  morning  beverage,  and  handed  it  to  her  companion 
as  a peace-offering. 

u A few7  warm  words  between  frinds  are  a trifle,  yee  must 
be  knowing,  Sargeant,”  said  the  washerwoman;  “it  w^us  Michael 
Flanagan  that  I ever  calumnated  the  most  when  I was  loving  him 
the  best.” 


252 


THE  SPY. 


“ Michael  was  a good  soldier  and  a brave  man,”  said  the  trooper 
finishing  the  glass ; “ our  troop  was  covering  the  flank  of  his  regi- 
ment when  he  fell,  and  I rode  over  his  body  myself  during  the  day  * 
poor  fellow ! he  lay  on  his  back,  and  looked  as  composed  as  if  he 
had  died  a natural  death  after  a year’s  consumption.” 

“ Oh  ! Michael  was  a great  consumer,  and  be  sartain ; two  such 
as  us  make  dreadful  inroads  in  the  stock,  Sargeant.  But  yee’r  a 
sober  discrate  man,  Mister  Hollister,  and  would  be  a helpmate 
indeed.” 

“Why,  Mrs.  Flanagan,  I've  tarried  to  speak  on  a subject  that 
lies  heavy  at  my  heart,  and  I will  now  open  my  mind,  if  you 've  lei- 
sure to  listen.” 

“ Is  it  listen  ?”  cried  the  impatient  woman ; “ and  I ’d  listen  to 
you,  Sargeant,  if  the  officers  never  ate  another  mouthful : but  take 
a second  drop,  dear,  'twill  encourage  you  to  spake  freely.” 

“ I am  already  bold  enough  in  so  good  a cause,”  returned  the 
veteran,  rejecting  her  bounty.  “ Betty,  do  you  think  it  was  really 
the  Pedler-Spy  that  I placed  in  this  room,  the  last  night  ?” 

“ And  who  should  it  be  else,  darling  ?” 

“ The  evil  one.” 

“What,  the  divil?” 

“ Ay,  even  Belzebub,  disguised  as  the  pedler ; and  them  fellows 
tve  thought  to  be  Skinners  were  his  imps !” 

“ Well  sure,  Sargeant  dear,  yee'r  but  little  out  this  time,  any 
way;  for  if  the  divil’s  imps  go  at  large  in  the  county  West-Chester, 
sure  it  is  the  Skinners,  themselves.” 

“ Mrs.  Flanagan,  I mean  in  their  incarnate  spirits ; the  evil  one 
knew  that  there  was  no  one  we  would  arrest  sooner  than  the  pedler 
Birch,  and  he  took  on  his  appearance  to  gain  admission  to  your 
room.” 

“ And  what  should  the  divil  be  wanting  of  me  ?”  cried  13etty. 
tartly;  “and  isn't  there  divils  enough  in  the  corps  already,  withoui 
one's  coming  from  the  bottomless  pit  to  frighten  a lone  body?” 


THE  SPY. 


253 


“ ’T  was  in  mercy  to  you,  Betty,  that  he  was  permitted  to  come. 
You  see  he  vanished  through  the  door  in  your  form,  which  is  a sym- 
bol of  your  fate,  unless  you  mend  your  life.  Oh  ! I noticed  how  he 
trembled  when  I gave  him  the  good  book.  Would  any  Christian, 
think  you,  my  dear  Betty,  write  in  a Bible  in  this  way ; unless  it 
might  be  the  matter  of  births  and  deaths,  and  such  lawful  chro- 
nicles ?” 

The  washerwoman  was  pleased  with  the  softness  of  her  lover’s 
manner,  but  dreadfully  scandalised  at  his  insinuation.  She,  how- 
ever, preserved  her  temper,  and  with  the  quickness  of  her  own 
country’s  people,  rejoined  — 

“ And  would  the  divil  have  paid  for  the  clothes,  think  ye  ? — - ay, 
and  overpaid.” 

“ Doubtless  the  money  is  base,”  said  the  Sergeant,  a little  stag- 
gered at  such  an  evidence  of  honesty  in  one  of  whom,  as  to  generals, 
he  thought  so  meanly.  “ He  tempted  me  with  his  glittering  coin, 
but  the  Lord  gave  me  strength  to  resist.” 

“ The  goold  looks  wTell ; but  I ’ll  change  it,  any  way,  with  Cap- 
tain Jack,  the  day.  He  is  niver  a bit  afeard  of  any  divil  of  them 
all !” 

“ Betty,  Betty,”  said  her  companion,  “do  not  speak  so  disreve- 
rently  of  the  evil  spirit;  he  is  ever  at  hand,  and  will  owe  you  a 
grudge,  for  your  language.” 

“ Pooh  ! if  he  has  any  bowels  at  all,  he  won’t  mind  a filip  or  two 
from  a poor  lone  woman ; I ’m  sure  no  other  Christian  would.” 

“ But  the  dark  one  has  no  bowels,  except  to  devour  the  children 
of  men,”  said  the  Sergeant,  looking  around  him  in  horror;  “and 
it’s  best  to  make  friends  everywhere,  for  there  is  no  telling  what 
may  happen  till  it  comes.  But,  Betty,  no  man  could  have  got  out 
of  this  place,  and  passed  all  the  sentinels  without  being  known ; take 
awful  warning  from  the  visit,  therefore  — ” 

Here  the  dialogue  was  interrupted  by  a peremptory  summons  to 
the  sutler  to  prepare  the  morning’s  repast,  and  they  were  obliged  to 


THE  SPY. 


/; 


‘254 

separate ; the  woman  secretly  hoping  that  the  interest  the  Sergeant 
manifested  was  more  earthly  than  he  imagined,  and  the  man,  bent 
on  saving  a soul  from  the  fangs  of  the  dark  spirit  that  was  prowling 
through  their  camp  in  quest  of  victims. 

During  the  breakfast  several  expresses  arrived,  one  of  which 
brought  intelligence  of  the  actual  force  and  destination  of  the  ene- 
my's expedition  that  was  out  on  the  Hudson ; and  another,  orders  to 
send  Captain  Wharton  to  the  first  post  above,  under  the  escort  of  a 
body  of  dragoons.  These  last  instructions,  or  rather  commands,  for 
they  admitted  of  no  departure  from  their  letter,  completed  the  sum 
of  Dunwoodie’ s uneasiness.  The  despair  and  misery  of  Frances 
were  constantly  before  his  eyes,  and  fifty  times  he  was  tempted  to 
throw  himself  on  his  horse  and  gallop  to  the  Locusts ; but  an  uncon- 
trollable feeling  prevented.  In  obedience  to  the  commands  of  his 
superior,  an  officer,  with  a small  party,  was  sent  to  the  cottage  to 
conduct  Henry  Wharton  to  the  place  directed;  and  the  gentleman 
who  was  intrusted  with  the  execution  of  the  order  was  charged  with 
a letter  from  Dunwoodie  to  his  friend,  containing  the  most  cheering 
assurances  of  his  safety,  as  well  as  the  strongest  pledges  of  his  own 
unceasing  exertions  in  his  favour.  Lawton  was  left  with  part  of  his 
own  troop,  in  charge  of  the  few  wounded;  and  as  soon  as  the  men 
were  refreshed,  the  encampment  broke  up,  the  main  body  marching 
towards  the  Hudson.  Dunwoodie  repeated  his  injunctions  to  Cap- 
tain Lawton  again  and  again  — dwelt  on  every  word  that  had  fallen 
from  the  pedler,  and  canvassed,  in  every  possible  manner  that  his 
ingenuity  could  devise,  the  probable  meaning  of  his  mysterious 
warnings,  until  no  excuse  remained  for  delaying  his  own  departure. 
Suddenly  recollecting,  however,  that  no  directions  had  been  given 
for  the  disposal  of  Colonel  Wellmere,  instead  of  following  the  rear 
of  the  column,  the  Major  yielded  to  his  desires,  and  turned  down 
the  road  which  led  to  the  Locusts.  The  horse  of  Dunwoodie  was 
fleet  as  the  wind,  and  scarcely  a minute  seemed  to  have  passed  be- 
fore he  gained  sight,  from  an  eminence,  of  the  lonely  vale,  and  as 


THE  SPY. 


255 


he  was  plunging  into  the  bottom  lands  that  formed  its  surface,  he 
caught  a glimpse  of  Henry  Wharton  and  his  escort,  at  a distance, 
defiling  through  a pass  which  led  to  the  posts  above.  This  sight 
added  to  the  speed  of  the  anxious  youth,  who  now  turned  the  angle 
of  the  hill  that  opened  to  the  valley,  and  came  suddenly  on  the  ob- 
ject of  his  search.  Frances  had  followed  the  party  which  guarded 
her  brother  at  a distance ; and  as  they  vanished  from  her  sight,  she 
felt  deserted  by  all  that  she  most  prized  in  this  world.  The  unac- 
countable absence  of  Dunwoodie,  with  the  shock  of  parting  from 
Henry  under  such  circumstances,  had  entirely  subdued  her  fortitude, 
and  she  had  sunk  on  a stone  by  the  roadside,  sobbing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break.  Dunwoodie  sprang  from  his  charger,  threw  the  reins 
over  the  neck  of  the  animal,  and  in  a moment  he  was  by  the  side  of 
the  weeping  girl. 

“ Frances — my  own  Frances  !”  he  exclaimed,  “ why  this  distress  ? 
— let  not  the  situation  of  your  brother  create  any  alarm.  As  soon 
as  the  duty  I am  now  on  is  completed,  I will  hasten  to  the  feet  of 
Washington,  and  beg  his  release.  The  Father  of  his  Country  will 
never  deny  such  a boon  to  one  of  his  favourite  pupils.” 

“ Major  Dunwoodie,  for  your  interest  in  behalf  of  my  poor  bro- 
ther, I thank  you,”  said  the  trembling  girl,  drying  her  eyes,  and 
rising  with  dignity;  “but  such  language  addressed  to  me,  surely,  is 
improper.” 

“ Improper  ! are  you  not  mine  — by  the  consent  of  your  father  — 
your  aunt  — your  brother  — nay,  by  your  own  consent,  my  sweet 
Frances  ?” 

“ I wish  not,  Major  Dunwoodie,  to  interfere  with  the  prior  claims 
that  any  other  lady  may  have  to  your  affections,”  said  Frances, 
struggling  to  speak  with  firmness. 

, “ None  other,  I swear  by  Heaven,  none  other  has  any  claim  on 
me !”  cried  Dunwoodie,  with  fervour ; “ you  alone  are  mistress  of 
my  inmost  soul.” 

“You  have  practised  so  much,  and  so  successfully,  Major  Dun- 


250 


THE  SPY. 


woodie,  that  it  is  no  wonder  you  excel  in  deceiving  the  credulity  of 
my  sex,”  returned  Frances,  attempting  a smile,  which  the  tremu- 
lousness of  her  muscles  smothered  in  its  birth. 

“ Am  I a villain,  Miss  Wharton,  that  you  receive  me  with  such 
language  ? — when  have  I ever  deceived  you,  Frances  ? who  has 
practised  in  this  manner  on  your  purity  of  heart  ?” 

“ Why  has  not  Major  Dunwoodie  honoured  the  dwelling  of  his 
intended  father  with  his  presence  lately  ? Did  he  forget  it  contained 
one  friend  on  a bed  of  sickness,  and  another  in  deep  distress  ? Has 
it  escaped  his  memory  that  it  held  his  intended  wife  ? Or  is  he 
fearful  of  meeting  more  than  one  that  can  lay  a claim  to  that  title  ? 
Oh,  Peyton  — Peyton,  how  have  I been  deceived  in  you ! with  the 
foolish  credulity  of  my  youth,  I thought  you  all  that  was  brave, 
noble,  generous,  and  loyal.” 

“ Frances,  I see  how  you  have  deceived  yourself,”  cried  Dun- 
woodie, his  face  in  a glow  of  fire ; “ you  do  me  injustice ; I swear 
by  all  that  is  most  dear  to  me,  that  you  do  me  injustice.” 

“ Swear  not,  Major  Dunwoodie,”  interrupted  Frances,  her  fine 
countenance  lighting  with  the  lustre  of  womanly  pride ; “ the  time 
is  gone  by  for  me  to  credit  oaths.” 

“ Miss  Wharton,  would  you  have  me  a coxcomb  — make  me  con- 
temptible in  my  own  eyes,  by  boasting  with  the  hope  of  raising  my- 
self in  your  estimation?” 

“ Flatter  not  yourself  that  the  task  is  so  easy,  sir,”  returned 
Frances,  moving  towards  the  cottage ; 66  we  converse  together  in  pri- 
vate for  the  last  time;  — but — possibly  — my  father  would  welcome 
my  mother’s  kinsman.” 

“No,  Miss  Wharton,  I cannot  enter  his  dwelling  now:  I should 
act  in  a manner  unworthy  of  myself.  You  drive  me  from  you, 
Frances,  in  despair.  I am  going  on  desperate  service,  and  may  not 
live  to  return.  Should  fortune  prove  severe,  at  least  do  my  memory 
justice ; remember  that  the  last  breathings  of  my  soul  will  be  for 
vour  happiness.”  So  saying,  he  had  already  placed  his  foot  in  the 


THE  SPY. 


257 


stirrup,  but  liis  youthful  mistress  turning  on  him  an  eye  that  pierced 
his  soul,  arrested  the  action. 

“ Peyton — -Major  Dunwoodie,”  she  said,  “'can  you  ever  forget 
the  sacred  cause  in  which  you  are  enlisted  ? Duty  both  to  your  God 
and  to  your  country  forbids  you  doing  any  thing  rashly.  The  lattei 
has  need  of  your  services;  besides — ” but  her  voice  became  choked, 
and  she  was  unable  to  proceed. 

u Besides  what  V ’ echoed  the  youth,  springing  to  her  side,  and 
offering  to  take  her  hand  in  his  own.  Frances  having,  however, 
recovered  herself,  coldly  repulsed  him,  and  continued  her  walk 
homeward. 

u Is  this  our  parting !”  cried  Dunwoodie,  in  agony ; “ am  I a 
wretch,  that  you  treat  me  so  cruelly  ? You  have  never  loved  me, 
and  wish  to  conceal  your  own  fickleness  by  accusations  that  you  will 
not  explain.” 

Frances  stopped  short  in  her  walk,  and  turned  on  him  a look  of 
so  much  purity  and  feeling,  that,  heart-stricken,  Dunwoodie  would 
have  knelt  at  her  feet  for  pardon ; but  motioning  him  for  silence, 
she  once  more  spoke  — 

u Hear  me,  Major  Dunwoodie,  for  the  last  time ; it  is  a bitter 
knowledge  when  we  first  discover  our  own  inferiority;  but  it  is  a 
truth  that  I have  lately  learnt.  Against  you  I bring  no  charges  — 
make  no  accusations;  no,  not  willingly  in  my  thoughts.  Were  my 
claims  to  your  heart  just,  I am  not  worthy  of  you.  It  is  not 
a feeble,  timid  girl,  like  me,  that  could  make  you  happy.  No, 
Peyton,  you  are  formed  for  great  and  glorious  actions,  deeds  of 
daring  and  renown,  and  should  be  united  to  a soul  like  your  own ; 
one  that  can  rise  above  the  weakness  of  her  sex.  I should  be  a 
weight  to  drag  you  to  the  dust ; but  with  a different  spirit  in  your 
companion,  you  might  soar  to  the  very  pinnacle  of  earthly  glory. 
To  such  a one,  therefore,  I resign  you  freely,  if  not  cheerfully ; and 
pray,  oh,  how  fervently  do  I pray ! that  with  such  a one  you  may 
be  happy.” 


258 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


u Lovely  enthusiast  !”  cried  Dunwoodie,  u you  know  not  your- 
self, nor  me.  It  is  a woman,  mild,  gentle,  and  dependent  as  your- 
self, that  my  very  nature  loves ; deceive  not  yourself  with  visionary 
ideas  of  generosity,  which  will  only  make  me  miserable.” 

“ Farewell,  Major  Dunwoodie,”  said  the  agitated  girl,  pausing  for 
a moment  to  gasp  for  breath;  u forget  that  you  ever  knew  me  — 
remember  the  claims  of  your  bleeding  country;  and  be  happy.” 

“ Happy !”  repeated  the  youthful  soldier,  bitterly,  as  he  saw  her 
light  form  gliding  through  the  gate  of  the  lawn,  and  disappearing 
behind  its  shrubbery ; “ yes,  I am  now  happy,  indeed !” 

Throwing  himself  into  the  saddle,  he  plunged  his  spurs  into  his 
horse,  and  soon  overtook  his  squadron,  which  was  marching  slowly 
over  the  hilly  roads  of  the  country,  to  gain  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson. 

But  painful  as  were  the  feelings  of  Dunwoodie  at  this  unex- 
pected termination  of  the  interview  with  his  mistress,  they  were 
but  light  compared  with  those  which  vrere  experienced  by  the 
fond  girl  herself.  Frances  had,  with  the  keen  eye  of  jealous 
love,  easily  detected  the  attachment  of  Isabella  Singleton  to  Dun- 
woodie. Delicate  and  retiring  herself,  it  never  could  present  itself 
to  her  mind  that  this  love  had  been  unsought.  Ardent  in  her 
own  affections,  and  artless  in  their  exhibition,  she  had  early  caught 
the  eye  of  the  young  soldier;  but  it  required  all  the  manly 
frankness  of  Dunwoodie  to  court  her  favour,  and  the  most  pointed 
devotion  to  obtain  his  conquest.  This  done,  his  powrer  w^as  durable, 
entire,  and  engrossing.  But  the  unusual  occurrences  of  the  few 
preceding  days,  the  altered  mien  of  her  lover  during  those  events, 
his  unwonted  indifference  to  herself,  and  chiefly  the  romantic 
idolatry  of  Isabella,  had  aroused  new  sensations  in  her  bosom. 
With  a dread  of  her  lover’s  integrity  had  been  awakened  the 
never-failing  concomitant  of  the  purest  affection,  a distrust  of  her 
own  merits.  In  the  moment  of  enthusiasm,  the  task  of  resigning 
her  lover  to  another,  who  might  be  more  worthy  of  him,  seemed 


THE  SPY. 


259 


easy ; but  it  is  in  vain  that  the  imagination  attempts  to  deceive  the 
heart.  Dunwoodie  had  no  sooner  disappeared,  than  our  heroine 
felt  all  the  misery  of  her  situation ; and  if  the  youth  found  some 
relief  in  the  cares  of  his  command,  Frances  was  less  fortunate  in 
the  performance  of  a duty  imposed  on  her  by  filial  piety.  The 
removal  of  his  son  had  nearly  destroyed  the  little  energy  of  Mr. 
Wharton,  who  required  all  the  tenderness  of  his  remaining  children 
to  convince  him  that  he  was  able  to  perform  the  ordinary  func- 
tions of  life 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Flatter  and  praise,  commend,  extol  tneir  graces, 

Though  ne’er  so  black,  say  they  have  angels’  faces 
That  man  who  hath  a tongue  I say  is  no  man, 

If  with  that  tongue  he  cannot  win  a woman. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

In  making  the  arrangements  by  which  Captain  Lawton  had  been 
left,  with  Sergeant  Hollister  and  twelve  men,  as  a guard  over  the 
wounded,  and  heavy  baggage  of  the  corps,  Dunwoodie  had  consulted 
not  only  the  information  which  had  been  conveyed  in  the  letter  of 
Colonel  Singleton,  but  the  bruises  of  his  comrade’s  body.  In  vain 
Lawton  declared  himself  fit  for  any  duty  that  man  could  perform, 
or  plainly  intimated  that  his  men  would  never  follow  Tom  Mason  to 
a charge  with  the  alacrity  and  confidence  with  which  they  followed 
himself;  his  commander  was  firm,  and  the  reluctant  Captain  was 
compelled  to  comply  with  as  good  a grace  as  he  could  assume. 
Before  parting,  Dunwoodie  repeated  his  caution  to  keep  a watchful 
eye  on  the  inmates  of  the  cottage;  and  especially  enjoined  him,  if 
any  movements  of  a particularly  suspicious  nature  were  seen  in 
the  neighbourhood,  to  break  up  from  his  present  quarters,  and  to 
move  down  with  his  party,  and  take  possession  of  the  domains  of 
Mr.  Wharton.  A vague  suspicion  of  danger  to  the  family  had  been 
awakened  in  the  breast  of  the  Major,  by  the  language  of  the  pedler, 
although  he  was  unable  to  refer  it  to  any  particular  source,  or  to 
understand  why  it  was  to  be  apprehended. 

For  some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  troops,  the  Captain  was 
walking  before  the  door  of  the  “ Hotel,”  inwardly  cursing  his 


THE  SPY. 


261 


fate,  that  condemned  him  to  an  inglorious  idleness,  at  a moment 
when  a meeting  with  the  enemy  might  be  expected,  and  replying  to 
the  occasional  queries  of  Betty,  who,  from  the  interior  of  the 
building,  ever  and  anon  demanded,  in  a high  tone  of  voice,  an 
explanation  of  various  passages  in  the  pedler’s  escape,  which  as 
yet  she  could  net  comprehend.  At  this  instant  he  was  joined  by 
the  surgeon,  who  had  hitherto  been  engaged  among  his  patients  in 
a distant  building,  and  was  profoundly  ignorant  of  every  thing  that 
had  occurred,  even  to  the  departure  of  the  troops. 

“ Where  are  all  the  sentinels,  John  ?”  he  enquired,  as  he 
gazed  around  with  a look  of  curiosity,  “and  why  are  you  here, 
alone  ?” 

“Off — all  off,  with  Dunwoodie,  to  the  river.  You  and  I are 
left  here  to  take  care  of  a few  sick  men  and  some  women/’ 

“ I am  glad,  however,”  said  the  surgeon,  “ that  Major  Dun- 
woodie had  consideration  enough  not  to  move  the  wounded.  Here, 
you  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Flanagan,  hasten  with  some  food,  that  I may 
appease  my  appetite.  I have  a dead  body  to  dissect,  and  am 
in  haste.” 

“ And  here,  you  Mister  Doctor  Archibald  Sitgreaves,”  echoed 
Betty,  showing  her  blooming  countenance  from  a broken  window  of 
the  kitchen,  “ you  are  ever  a coming  too  late ; here  is  nothing  to  ate 
but  the  skin  of  Jenny,  and  the  body  yee’r  mintioning.” 

“Woman!”  said  the  surgeon,  in  anger,  “do  you  take  me  for  a 
cannibal,  that  you  address  your  filthy  discourse  to  me,  in  this  man- 
ner? I bid  you  hasten  with  such  food  as  may  be  proper  to  be 
received  into  the  stomach  fasting.” 

“And  I’m  sure  it’s  for  a pop-gun  that  I should  be  taking  jou 
sooner  than  for  a cannon-ball,”  said  Betty,  winking  at  the  Captain; 
*•  and  I tell  yee  that  it ’s  fasting  you  must  be,  unless  yee’l  let  me 
cook  yee  a steak  from  the  skin  of  Jenny  The  boys  have  ate  me 
up  in  tire  ly.” 

Lawton  now  interfered  to  preserve  the  peace,  and  assured  the 


262 


THE  SPY. 


surgeon  that  he  had  already  despatched  the  proper  peisons  in  quest 
of  food  for  the  party.  A little  mollified  with  this  explanation,  the 
operator  soon  forgot  his  hunger,  and  declared  his  intention  of  pro- 
ceeding to  business  at  once. 

“ And  where  is  your  subject  ?”  asked  Lawton. 

“ The  pedler,”  said  the  other,  glancing  a look  at  the  sign-post. 
“ I made  Hollister  put  a stage  so  high  that  the  neck  would  not  he 
dislocated  by  the  fall,  and  I intend  making  as  handsome  a skeleton 
of  him,  as  there  is  in  the  States  of  North  America;  the  fellow  has 
good  points,  and  his  bones  are  well  knit.  I will  make  a perfect 
beauty  of  him.  I have  long  been  wanting  something  of  this  sort  to 
send  as  a present  to  my  old  aunt  in  Virginia,  who  was  so  kind  to 
me  when  a boy.” 

“ The  devil !”  cried  Lawton ; “ would  you  send  the  old  woman  a 
dead  man’s  bones?” 

“ Why  not?”  said  the  surgeon;  “ what  nobler  object  is  there  in 
nature  than  the  figure  of  a man — and  the  skeleton  may  be  called  his 
elementary  parts.  But  what  has  been  done  with  the  body  ?” 

“ Off  too.” 

“ Off ! and  who  has  dared  to  interfere  with  my  perquisites  ?” 

“ Sure,  jist  the  divil,”  said  Betty;  “and  who’ll  be  taking  yeer- 
self  away  some  of  these  times  too,  without  asking  yeer  lave.” 

“ Silence,  you  witch  !”  said  Lawton,  with  difficulty  suppressing  a 
laugh ; “ is  this  the  manner  in  which  to  address  an  officer  ?” 

“ Who  called  me  the  filthy  Elizabeth  Flanagan  ?”  cried  the  wash- 
erwoman, snapping  her  fingers  contemptuously ; “ I can  remimber  a 
frind  for  a year,  and  don’t  forgit  an  inimy  for  a month.” 

But  the  friendship,  or  enmity  of  Mrs.  Flanagan  was  alike  indif- 
ferent to  the  surgeon,  who  could  think  of  nothing  but  his  loss ; and 
Lawton  was  obliged  to  explain  to  his  friend  the  apparent  manner  in 
which  it  had  happened. 

“ Arnd  a lucky  escape  it  was  for  yee,  my  jewel  of  a doctor,”  cried 
Betty,  as  the  Captain  concluded.  “ Sargeant  Hollister,  who  saw 


THE  SPY. 


263 


him  face  to  face,  as  it  might  be,  says  it’s  Beelzeboob,  and  no  pidlcr, 
unless  it  may  be  in  a small  matter  of  lies  and  thefts,  and  sich  wick- 
edness. Now  a pretty  figure  yee  would  have  been  in  cutting  up 
Beelzeboob,  if  the  Major  had  hanged  him.  I don’t  think  it ’s  very 
asy  he  would  have  been  under  yeer  knife.” 

Thus  doubly  disappointed  in  his  meal  and  his  business,  Sitgreaves 
suddenly  declared  his  intention  of  visiting  the  u Locusts,”  and  en- 
quiring into  the  state  of  Captain  Singleton.  Lawton  was  ready  for 
the  excursion;  and  mounting,  they  were  soon  on  the  road,  though 
the  surgeon  was  obliged  to  submit  to  a few  more  jokes  from  the 
washerwoman,  before  he  could  get  out  of  hearing.  For  some  time 
the  two  rode  in  silence,  when  Lawton,  perceiving  that  his  compa- 
nion’s temper  was  somewhat  rutiled  by  his  disappointments  and 
Betty’s  attack,  made  an  effort  to  restore  the  tranquillity  of  his 
feelings. 

“ That  was  a charming  song,  Archibald,  that  you  commenced  last 
evening,  when  we  were  interrupted  by  the  party  that  brought  in  the 
pedler,”  he  said  : “ the  allusion  to  G alen  was  much  to  the  purpose.” 
u I knew  you  would  like  it,  J ack,  when  you  had  got  the  fumes 
of  the  wine  out  of  your  head.  Poetry  is  a respectable  art,  though 
it  wants  the  precision  of  the  exact  sciences,  and  the  natural  benefi- 
cence of  the  physical.  Considered  in  reference  to  the  wants  of  life, 
I should  define  poetry  as  an  emollient,  rather  than  as  a succulent.” 
u And  yet  your  ode  was  full  of  the  meat  of  wit.” 
u Ode  is  by  no  means  a proper  term  for  the  composition ; I should 
term  it  a 'classical  ballad.” 

“ Y ery  probably,”  said  the  trooper ; “ hearing  only  one  verse,  it 
was  difficult  to  class  the  composition.” 

The  surgeon  involuntarily  hemmed,  and  began  to  clear  his  throat, 
although  scarcely  conscious  himself  to  what  the  preparation  tended. 
But  the  Captain,  roiling  his  dark  eyes  towards  his  companion,  and 
observing  him  to  be  sitting  with  great  uneasiness  on  his  horse,  con- 
tinued — 


264 


THE  SPY. 


“ The  air  is  still,  and  the  road  solitary  — why  not  give  the  re- 
mainder ? It  is  never  too  late  to  repair  a loss.” 

“ My  dear  John,  if  I thought  it  would  correct  the  errors  you  have 
imbibed,  from  habit  and  indulgence,  nothing  could  give  me  more 
pleasure.” 

“We  are  fast  approaching  some  rocks  on  our  left;  the  echo  will 
double  my  satisfaction.” 

Thus  encouraged,  and  somewhat  impelled  by  the  opinion  that  he 
both  sang  and  wrote  with  taste,  the  surgeon  set  about  complying 
with  the  request  in  sober  earnest.  Some  little  time  was  lost  in 
clearing  his  throat,  and  getting  the  proper  pitch  of  his  voice ; but 
no  sooner  were  these  two  points  achieved,  than  Lawton  had  the 
secret  delight  of  hearing  his  friend  commence  — 

“ 4 Hast  thou  ever  — ’ ” 

“ Hush  !”  interrupted  the  trooper ; “ what  rustling  noise  is  that 
among  the  rocks?” 

“It  must  have  been  the  rushing  of  the  melody.  A powerful 
voice  is  like  the  breathing  of  the  winds. 

* Hast  thou  ever  — ’ ” 

“ Listen !”  said  Lawton,  stopping  his  horse.  He  had  not  done 
speaking,  when  a stone  fell  at  his  feet,  and  rolled  harmlessly  across 
the  path. 

“A  friendly  shot,  that,”  cried  the  trooper;  “neither  the  weapon, 
nor  its  force,  implies  much  ill-will.” 

“ Blows  from  stones  seldom  produce  more  than  contusions,”  said 
the  operator,  bending  his  gaze  in  every  direction  in  vain,  in  quest 
of  the  hand  from  which  the  missile  had  been  hurled ; “it  must  be 
meteoric ; there  is  no  living  being  in  sight,  except  ourselves.” 

“ It  would  be  easy  to  hide  a regiment  behind  those  rooks,”  re- 
turned the  trooper,  dismounting,  and  taking  the  stone  in  his  hand  — 
“ Oh  ! here  is  the  explanation  along  with  the  mystery.”  So  saying, 
he  tore  a piece  of  paper  that  had  been  ingeniously  fastened  to  the 


THE  SPY. 


265 


small  fragment  of  rock  which  had  thus  singularly  fallen  before  him; 
and  opening  it,  the  Captain  read  the  following  words,  written  in  no 
very  legible  hand  : — 

“ Ji  musket  bullet  will  go  farther  than  a stone , and  things  more 
dangerous  than  yarbs  for  wounded  men  lie  hid  in  the  rocks  of  West- 
chester. The  horse  may  be  good , but  can  he  mount  a precipice 
u Thou  sayest  the  truth,  strange  man,”  said  Lawton ; “ courage 
and  activity  would  avail  but  little  against  assassination  and  these 
rugged  passes.”  Remounting  his  horse,  he  cried  aloud  — u Thanks, 
unknown  friend ; your  caution  will  be  remembered.” 

A meagre  hand  was  extended  for  an  instant  over  a rock,  in  the 
air,  and  afterwards  nothing  further  was  seen,  or  heard,  in  that  quar- 
ter, by  the  soldiers. 

u Quite  an  extraordinary  interruption,”  said  the  astonished  Sit- 
greaves,  u and  a letter  of  a very  mysterious  meaning.” 

“ Oh  ! ’t  is  nothing  but  the  wit  of  some  bumpkin,  who  thinks  to 
frighten  two  of  the  Virginians  by  an  artifice  of  this  kind,”  said  the 
trooper,  placing  the  billet  in  his  pocket ; “ but  let  me  tell  you,  Mr 
Archibald  Sitgreaves,  you  were  wanting  to  dissect,  just  now,  a damn’d 
honest  fellow.” 

“ It  was  the  pedler  — one  of  the  most  notorious  spies  in  the  ene- 
my’s service ; and  I must  say  that  I think  it  would  be  an  honour  to 
such  a man  to  be  devoted  to  the  uses  of  science.” 

“ He  may  be  a spy  — he  must  be  one,”  said  Lawton,  musing ) 
u but  he  has  a heart  above  enmity,  and  a soul  that  would  honour  a 
soldier.” 

The  surgeon  turned  a vacant  eye  on  his  companion  as  he  uttered 
this  soliloquy,  while  the  penetrating  looks  of  the  trooper  had  already 
discovered  another  pile  of  rocks,  which,  jutting  forward,  nearly  ob- 
structed the  highway  that  wound  directly  around  its  base. 

u What  the  steed  cannot  mount,  the  foot  of  man  can  overcome,” 
exclaimed  the  wary  partisan.  Throwing  himself  again  from  his 
saddle,  and  leaping  a wall  of  stone,  he  began  to  ascend  the  hill  at  a 

12 


266 


THE  SPY. 


pace  which  would  soon  have  given  him  a bird's-eye  view  of  the  rocks 
in  question,  together  with  all  their  crevices.  This  movement  was 
no  sooner  made,  than  Lawton  caught  a glimpse  of  the  figure  of  a 
man  stealing  rapidly  from  his  approach,  and  disappearing  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  precipice. 

“Spur,  Sitgreaves  — spur,"  shouted  the  trooper,  dashing  over 
every  impediment  in  pursuit,  “ and  murder  the  villain  as  he  flies." 

The  former  part  of  the  request  was  promptly  complied  with,  and 
a few  moments  brought  the  surgeon  in  full  view  of  a man  armed 
with  a musket,  who  was  crossing  the  road,  and  evidently  seeking  the 
protection  of  the  thick  wood  on  its  opposite  side. 

“ Stop,  my  friend  — stop  until  Captain  Lawton  comes  up,  if  you 
please,"  cried  the  surgeon,  observing  him  to  flee  with  a rapidity  that 
baflled  his  horsemanship.  But  as  if  the  invitation  contained  new 
terrors,  the  footman  redoubled  his  efforts,  nor  paused  even  to  breathe, 
until  he  had  reached  his  goal,  when,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  dis- 
charged his  musket  towards  the  surgeon,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  an 
instant.  To  gain  the  highway,  and  throw  himself  into  his  saddle, 
detained  Lawton  but  a moment,  and  he  rode  to  the  side  of  his  com- 
rade just  as  the  figure  disappeared. 

“Which  way  has  he  fled?"  cried  the  trooper. 

“John,"  said  the  surgeon,  “am  I not  a non-combatant?" 

“ Whither  has  the  rascal  fled  ?"  cried  Lawton,  impatiently. 

“Where  you  cannot  follow  — into  that  wood.  But  I repeat, 
John,  am  I not  a non-combatant?" 

The  disappointed  trooper,  perceiving  that  his  enemy  had  escaped 
him,  now  turned  his  eyes,  which  were  flashing  with  anger,  upon  his 
comrade,  and  gradually  his  muscles  lost  their  rigid  compression,  his 
brow  relaxed,  and  his  look  changed  from  its  fierce  expression,  to  the 
covert  laughter  which  so  often  distinguished  his  countenance.  The 
surgeon  sat  in  dignified  composure  on  his  horse ; his  thin  body  erect, 
and  his  head  elevated  with  the  indignation  of  one  conscious  of  hav- 
ing been  unjustly  treated. 


THE  SPY. 


267 


“ Why  did  you  suffer  the  villain  to  escape  ?”  demanded  the  Cap- 
tain. “ Once  within  reach  of  my  sabre,  and  I would  have  given 
you  a subject  for  the  dissecting  table.” 

“’Twas  impossible  to  prevent  it,”  said  the  surgeon,  pointing  to 
the  bars,  before  which  he  had  stopped  his  horse.  — “ The  rogue 
threw  himself  on  the  other  side  of  this  fence,  and  left  me  where 
you  see ; nor  would  the  man  in  the  least  attend  to  my  remonstrances, 
or  to  an  intimation  that  you  wished  to  hold  discourse  with  him.” 
u He  was  truly  a discourteous  rascal ; but  why  did  you  not  leap 
the  fence,  and  compel  him  to  a halt  ? — you  see  but  three  of  the 
bars  are  up,  and  Betty  Flanagan  could  clear  them  on  her  cow.” 

The  surgeon,  for  the  first  time,  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  place 
where  the  fugitive  had  disappeared,  and  turned  his  look  on  his  com- 
rade. His  head,  however,  was  not  permitted  to  lower  itself  in  the 
least,  as  he  replied  — 

a I humbly  conceive,  Captain  Lawton,  that  neither  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Flanagan,  nor  her  cow,  is  an  example  to  be  emulated  by  Doctor 
Archibald  Sitgreaves  : it  would  be  but  a sorry  compliment  to  science, 
to  say,  that  a Doctor  of  Medicine  had  fractured  both  his  legs,  by 
injudiciously  striking  them  against  a pair  of  bar-posts.”  While 
speaking,  the  surgeon  raised  the  limbs  in  question  to  a nearly  hori- 
zontal position,  an  attitude  which  really  appeared  to  bid  defiance  to 
any  thing  like  a passage  for  himself  through  the  defile;  but  the 
trooper,  disregarding  this  ocular  proof  of  the  impossibility  of  the 
movement,  cried  hastily  — 

u Here  was  nothing  to  stop  you,  man ; I could  leap  a platoon 
through,  boot  and  thigh,  without  pricking  with  a single  spur. 
Pshaw  ! I have  often  charged  upon  the  bayonets  of  infantry,  over 
greater  difficulties  than  this.” 

“ You  will  please  to  remember,  Captain  John  Lawton,  that  I am 
not  the  riding-master  of  the  regiment  — nor  a drill  sergeant  — nor  a 
crazy  cornet;  no,  sir  — and  I speak  it  with  a due  respect  for  the 
commission  of  the  continental  Congress  — nor  an  inconsiderate  cap- 


268 


THE  SPY. 


tain,  who  regards  his  own  life  as  little  as  that  of  his  enemies.  I am 
only,  sir,  a poor  humble  man  of  letters,  a mere  Doctor  of  Medicine, 
an  unworthy  graduate  of  Edinburgh,  and  a surgeon  of  dragoons; 
nothing  more,  I do  assure  you,  Captain  John  Lawton.”  So  saying, 
he  turned  his  horse’s  head  towards  the  cottage,  and  recommenced 
„ his  ride. 

“Ay  ! you  speak  the  truth,”  muttered  the  dragoon ; “ had  I but 
the  meanest  rider  of  my  troop  with  me,  I should  have  taken  the 
scoundrel,  and  given  at  least  one  victim  to  the  laws.  But,  Archi- 
bald, no  man  can  ride  well  who  straddles  in  this  manner  like  the 
Colossus  of  Rhodes.  You  should  depend  less  on  your  stirrup,  and 
keep  your  seat  by  the  power  of  the  knee.” 

“With  proper  deference  to  your  experience,  Captain  Lawton,” 
returned  the  surgeon,  “I  conceive  myself  to  be  no  incompetent 
judge  of  muscular  action,  whether  in  the  knee,  or  any  other  part  of 
the  human  frame.  And  although  but  humbly  educated,  I am  not 
now  to  learn  that  the  wider  the  base,  the  more  firm  is  the  super- 
structure.” 

“ Would  you  fill  a highway,  in  this  manner,  with  one  pair  of  legs, 
wheh  half  a dozen  might  pass  together  in  comfort,  stretching  them 
abroad  like  the  scythes  of  the  ancient  chariot  wheels  ?” 

The  allusion  to  the  practice  of  the  ancients  somewhat  softened 
the  indignation  of  the  surgeon,  and  he  replied,  with  rather  less 
hauteur  — 

“ You  should  speak  with  reverence  of  the  usages  of  those  who  have 
gone  before  us,  and  who,  however  ignorant  they  were  in  matters  of 
science,  and  particularly  that  of  surgery,  yet  furnished  many  brilliant 
hints  to  our  own  improvements.  Now,  sir,  I have  no  doubt  that 
Galen  has  operated  on  wounds  occasioned  by  these  very  scythes  that 
you  mention,  although  we  can  find  no  evidence  of  the  fact  in  contem- 
porary writers.  Ah  ! they  must  have  given  dreadful  injuries,  and, 
I doubt  not,  caused  great  uneasiness  to  the  medical  gentlemen  of 
that  day  ” 


THE  S P Y . 


200 


“ Occasionally  a body  must  have  been  left  in  two  pieces,  to  puzzle 
the  ingenuity  of  those  gentry  to  unite.  Yet,  venerable  and  learned 
as  they  were,  I doubt  not  they  did  it.” 

“ What ! unite  two  parts  of  the  human  body,  that  have  been 
severed  by  an  edged  instrument,  to  any  of  the  purposes  of  animal 
life?” 

“ That  have  been  rent  asunder  by  a scythe,  and  are  united  to  do 
military  duty,”  said  Lawton. 

“ ?T is  impossible  — quite  impossible,”  cried  the  surgeon;  “it  is 
in  vain,  Captain  Lawton,  that  human  ingenuity  endeavours  to  baffle 
the  efforts  of  nature.  Think,  my  dear  sir,  in  this  case  you  separate 
all  the  arteries  — injure  all  of  the  intestines  — sever  all  of  the 
nerves  and  sinews,  and,  what  is  of  more  consequence,  you  — ” 

“You  have  said  enough,  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  to  convince  a member 
of  a rival  school.  Nothing  shall  ever  tempt  me  willingly  to  submit 
to  be  divided  in  this  irretrievable  manner.” 

“Certes,  there  is  little  pleasure  in  a wound  which,  from  its 
nature,  is  incurable.” 

“I  should  think  so,”  said  Lawton  drily. 

“ What  do  you  think  is  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life  ?”  asked  the 
operator  suddenly. 

“That  must  greatly  depend  on  taste.” 

“Not  at  all,”  cried  the  surgeon;  “it  is  in  witnessing,  or  rather 
feeling,  the  ravages  of  disease  repaired  by  the  lights  of  science  co- 
operating with  nature.  I once  broke  my  little  finger  intentionally, 
in  order  that  I might  reduce  the  fracture  and  watch  the  cure  : it  was 
only  on  a small  scale,  you  know,  dear  John;  still  the  thrilling  sen- 
sation excited  by  the  knitting  of  the  bone,  aided  by  the  contemplation 
of  the  art  of  man  thus  acting  in  unison  with  nature,  exceeded  any 
other  enjoyment  that  I have  ever  experienced.  Now,  had  it  been 
one  of  the  more  important  members,  such  as  the  leg  or  arm,  how 
much  greater  must  the  pleasure  have  been !” 

“ Or  the  neck,”  said  the  trooper ; but  their  desultory  discourse 


270 


THE  SP7. 


/ 


was  interrupted  by  their  arrival  at  the  cottage  of  Mr.  Wharton.  No 
one  appearing  to  usher  them  into  an  apartment,  the  Captain  pro- 
ceeded to  the  door  of  the  parlour,  where  he  knew  visiters  were  com- 
monly received.  On  opening  it,  he  paused  for  a moment,  in  admi- 
ration at  the  scene  within.  The  person  of  Colonel  Wellmere  first 
met  his  eye,  bending  towards  the  figure  of  the  blushing  Sarah,  with 
an  earnestness  of  manner  that  prevented  the  noise  of  Lawton’s 
entrance  from  being  heard  by  either  of  the  parties.  Certain  signifi- 
cant signs,  which  were  embraced  at  a glance  by  the  prying  gaze  of 
the  trooper,  at  once  made  him  a master  of  their  secret;  and  he  was 
about  to  retire  as  silently  as  he  had  advanced,  when  his  companion, 
pushing  himself  through  the  passage,  abruptly  entered  the  room. 
Advancing  instantly  to  the  chair  of  Wellmere,  the  surgeon  instinct- 
ively laid  hold  of  his  arm,  and  exclaimed  — 

u Bless  me  ! — a quick  and  irregular  pulse  — flushed  cheek  and 
fiery  eye  — strong  febrile  symptoms,  and  such  as  must  be  attended 
to.”  While  speaking,  the  doctor,  who  was  much  addicted  to 
practising  in  a summary  way,  — a weakness  of  most  medical  men 
in  military  practice,  — had  already  produced  his  lancet,  and  was 
making  certain  other  indications  of  his  intentions  to  proceed  at  once 
to  business.  But  Colonel  Wellmere,  recovering  from  the  confusion 
of  the  surprise,  arose  from  his  seat  haughtily,  and  said  — 

u Sir,  it  is  the  warmth  of  the  room  that  lends  me  the  colour,  and 
I am  already  too  much  indebted  to  your  skill  to  give  you  any  farther 
trouble ; Miss  Wharton  knows  that  I am  quite  well,  and  I do  assure 
you  that  I never  felt  better  or  happier  in  my  life.” 

There  was  a peculiar  emphasis  on  the  latter  part  of  this  speech, 
that,  however  it  might  gratify  the  feelings  of  Sarah,  brought  the 
colour  to  her  cheeks  again ; and  Sitgreaves,  as  his  eye  followed  the 
direction  of  those  of  his  patient,  did  not  fail  to  observe  it. 

u Your  arm,  if  you  please,  madam,”  said  the  surgeon,  advancing 
with  a bow ; u anxiety  and  watching  have  done  their  work  on  your 


THE  SPY. 


271 


delicate  frame,  and  there  are  symptoms  about  you  that  must  not  be 
neglected.” 

“ Excuse  me,  sir,”  said  Sarah,  recovering  herself  with  womanly 
pride ; u the  heat  is  oppressive,  and  I will  retire  and  acquaint  Miss 
Peyton  with  your  presence.” 

There  was  but  little  difficulty  in  practising  on  the  abstracted  sim- 
plicity of  the  surgeon  \ but  it  was  necessary  for  Sarah  to  raise  her 
eyes  to  return  the  salutation  of  Lawton,  as  he  bowed  his  head  nearly 
to  a level  with  the  hand  that  held  open  the  door  for  her  passage. 
One  look  was  sufficient ; she  was  able  to  control  her  steps  sufficiently 
to  retire  with  dignity ; but  no  sooner  was  she  relieved  from  the  pre- 
sence of  all  observers,  than  she  fell  into  a chair,  and  abandoned  her- 
self to  a feeling  of  mingled  shame  and  pleasure. 

A little  nettled  at  the  contumacious  deportment  of  the  British 
colonel,  Sitgreaves,  after  once  more  tendering  services  that  were 
again  rejected,  withdrew  to  the  chamber  of  young  Singleton,  whither 
Lawton  had  already  preceded  him. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Oh ! Henry,  when  thou  deign’st  to  sue, 

Can  I thy  suit  withstand  ? 

When  thou,  lov’d  youth,  hast  won  my  heart, 

Can  I refuse  my  hand  ? 

Hermit  of  Warkworth. 

The  graduate  of  Edinburgh  found  his  patient  rapidly  improving  in 
health,  and  entirely  free  from  fever.  His  sister,  with  a cheek  that 
was,  if  possible,  paler  than  on  her  arrival,  watched  around  his  couch 
with  tender  care ; and  the  ladies  of  the  cottage  had  not,  in  the  midst 
of  their  sorrows  and  varied  emotions,  forgotten  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  hospitality.  Frances  felt  herself  impelled  towards  their 
disconsolate  guest,  with  an  interest  for  which  she  could  not  account, 
and  with  a force  that  she  could  not  control.  She  had  unconsciously 
connected  the  fates  of  Dunwoodie  and  Isabella  in  her  imagination, 
and  she  felt,  with  the  romantic  ardour  of  a generous  mind,  that  she 
was  serving  her  former  lover  most,  by  exhibiting  kindness  to  her  he 
loved  best.  Isabella  received  her  attentions  with  gratitude,  but 
neither  of  them  indulged  in  any  allusions  to  the  latent  source  of 
their  uneasiness.  The  observation  of  Miss  Peyton  seldom  pene- 
trated beyond  things  that  were  visible,  and  to  her  the  situation  of 
Henry  Wharton  seemed  to  furnish  an  awful  excuse  for  the  fading 
cheeks  and  tearful  eyes  of  her  niece.  If  Sarah  manifested  less  of 
care  than  her  sister,  still  the  unpractised  aunt  was  not  at  a loss  to 
comprehend  the  reason.  Love  is  a holy  feeling  with  the  virtuous  of 
the  female  sex,  and  it  hallows  all  that  comes  within  its  influence. 
Although  Miss  Peyton  mourned  with  sincerity  over  the  danger 


T II  E S 1J  Y. 


273 


which  threatened  her  nephew,  she  well  knew  that  an  active  cam- 
paign was  not  favourable  to  love,  and  the  moments  that  were  thus 
accidentally  granted  were  not  to  be  thrown  away. 

Several  days  now  passed  without  any  interruption  of  the  usual 
avocations  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  cottage,  or  the  party  at  the  Four 
Corners.  The  former  were  supporting  their  fortitude  with  the  cer- 
tainty of  Henry’s  innocence,  and  a strong  reliance  on  Funwoodie’s 
exertions  in  his  behalf,  and  the  latter  waiting  with  impatience  the 
intelligence,  that  was  hourly  expected,  of  a conflict,  and  their  orders 
to  depart.  Captain  Lawton,  however,  waited  for  both  these  events 
in  vain.  Letters  from  the  major  announced  that  the  enemy,  finding 
that  the  party  which  was  to  co-operate  with  them  had  been  defeated, 
and  was  withdrawn,  had  retired  also  behind  the  works  of  Fort  Wash- 
ington, where  they  continued  inactive,  threatening  constantly  to  strike 
a blow  in  revenge  for  their  disgrace.  The  trooper  was  enjoined  to 
vigilance,  and  the  letter  concluded  with  a compliment  to  his  honour, 
zeal,  and  undoubted  bravery. 

“ Extremely  flattering,  Major  Dunwoodie,”  muttered  the  dragoon, 
as  he  threw  down  this  epistle,  and  stalked  across  the  floor  to  quiet 
his  impatience.  u A proper  guard  have  you  selected  for  this  ser- 
vice : let  me  see  — - 1 have  to  watch  over  the  interests  of  a crazy, 
irresolute  old  man,  who  does  not  know  whether  he  belongs  to  us  or 
to  the  enemy ; four  women,  three  of  whom  are  well  enough  in  them- 
selves, but  who  are  not  immensely  flattered  by  my  society ; and  the 
fourth,  who,  good  as  she  is,  is  on  the  wrong  side  of  forty ; some  two 
or  three  blacks;  a talkative  housekeeper,  that  does  nothing  but  chat- 
ter about  gold  and  despisables,  and  signs  and  omens;  and  poor 
George  Singleton.  Well,  a comrade  in  suffering  has  a claim  on  a 
man,  — so  I’ll  make  the  best  of  it.” 

As  he  concluded  this  soliloquy,  the  trooper  took  a seat  and  began 
to  whistle,  to  convince  himself  how  little  he  cared  about  the  matter, 
when,  by  throwing  his  booted  leg  carelessly  round,  he  upset  the 
canteen  that  held  his  whole  stock  of  brandy.  The  accident  was  soon 

12* 


274 


T HE  SPY. 


/ 


repaired,  but  in  replacing  tbe  wooden  vessel,  he  observed  a billet 
lying  on  the  bench,  on  which  the  liquor  had  been  placed.  It  was 
soon  opened,  and  he  read  — “ The  moon  will  not  rise  till  after  mid- 
night— a fit  time  for  deeds  of  darkness There  was  no  mistaking 
the  hand ; it  was  clearly  the  same  that  had  given  him  the  timely 
warning  against  assassination,  and  the  trooper  continued,  for  a long 
time,  musing  on  the  nature  of  these  two  notices,  and  the  motives 
that  could  induce  the  pedler  to  favour  an  implacable  enemy  in  the 
manner  that  he  had  latterly  done.  That  he  was  a spy  of  the  enemy, 
Lawton  knew;  for  the  fact  of  his  conveying  intelligence  to  the 
English  commander-in-chief,  of  a party  of  Americans  that  were  ex- 
posed to  the  enemy,  was  proved  most  clearly  against  him  on  the 
trial  for  his  life.  The  consequences  of  his  treason  had  been  avoided, 
it  is  true,  by  a lucky  order  from  Washington,  which  withdrew  the 
regiment  a short  time  before  the  British  appeared  to  cut  it  off,  but 
still  the  crime  was  the  same ; perhaps,  thought  the  partisan,  he 
wishes  to  make  a friend  of  me  against  the  event  of  another  capture ; 
but,  at  all  events,  he  spared  my  life  on  one  occasion,  and  saved  it  on 
another.  I will  endeavour  to  be  as  generous  as  himself,  and  pray 
that  my  duty  may  never  interfere  with  my  feelings. 

Whether  the  danger,  intimated  in  the  present  note,  threatened 
the  cottage  or  his  own  party,  the  Captain  was  uncertain,  but  he  in- 
clined to  the  latter  opinivm,  and  determined  to  beware  how  he  rode 
abroad  in  the  dark.  To  a man  in  a peaceable  country,  and  in  times 
of  quiet  and  order,  the  indifference  with  which  the  partisan  regarded 
the  impending  danger  would  be  inconceivable.  His  reflections  on 
the  subject  were  more  directed  towards  devising  means  to  entrap  his 
enemies,  than  to  escape  their  machinations.  But  the  arrival  of  the 
surgeon,  who  had  been  to  pay  Jus  daily  visit  to  the  Locusts,  inter- 
rupted his  meditations.  Sitgreaves  brought  an  invitation  from  the 
mistress  of  the  mansion  to  Captain  Lawton,  desiring  that  the  cottage 
might  be  honoured  with  his  presence  at  an  early  hour  on  that 
,vening. 


THE  SPY. 


275 


“Ha!”  cried  the  trooper;  “then  they  have  received  a letter, 
also.” 

“ I think  nothing  more  probable,”  said  the  surgeon ; “ there  is  a 
chaplain  at  the  cottage  from  the  royal  army,  who  has  come  out  to 
exchange  the  British  wounded,  and  who  has  an  order  from  Colonel 
Singleton  for  their  delivery.  But  a more  mad  project  than  to  re- 
move them  now  was  never  adopted.” 

“ A priest,  say  you  ! — is  he  a hard  drinker  — a real  camp-idler 
— a fellow  to  breed  a famine  in  a regiment  ? or  does  he  seem  a man 
who  is  in  earnest  in  his  trade  ?” 

“ A very  respectable  and  orderly  gentleman,  and  not  unreasonably 
given  to  intemperance,  judging  from  the  outward  symptoms,”  re- 
turned the  surgeon ; “ and  a man  who  really  says  grace  in  a very 
regular  and  appropriate  manner.” 

“And  does  he  stay  the  night?” 

“ Certainly,  he  waits  for  his  cartel ; but  hasten,  J ohn,  we  have  but 
little  time  to  waste.  I will  just  step  up  and  bleed  two  or  three  of 
the  Englishmen  who  are  to  move  in  the  morning,  in  order  to  antici- 
pate inflammation,  and  be  with  you  immediately.” 

The  gala  suit  of  Captain  Lawton  was  easily  adjusted  to  his  huge 
frame,  and  his  companion  being  ready,  they  once  more  took  their 
route  towards  the  cottage.  Roanoke  had  been  as  much  benefited  by 
a few  days’  rest  as  his  master;  and  Lawton  ardently  wished,  as  he 
curbed  his  gallant  steed,  on  passing  the  well-remembered  rocks,  that 
his  treacherous  enemy  stood  before  him,  mounted  and  armed  as 
himself.  But  no  enemy,  nor  any  disturbance  whatever,  interfered 
with  their  progress,  and  they  reached  the  Locusts  just  as  the  sun 
was  throwing  his  setting  rays  on  the  valley,  and  tinging  the  tops  of 
the  leafless  trees  with  gold.  It  never  required  more  than  a single 
look  to  acquaint  the  trooper  with  the  particulars  of  every  scene  that 
was  not  uncommonly  veiled,  and  the  first  survey  that  he  took  on 
entering  the  house,  told  him  more  than  the  observations  of  a day 
had  put  into  the  possession  of  Dr.  Sitgreaves.  Miss  Peyton  accosted 


270 


THE  SPY. 


him  with  a smiling  welcome,  that  exceeded  the  bounds  of  oidinary 
courtesy,  and  which  evidently  flowed  more  from  feelings  that  were 
connected  with  the  heart,  than  from  manner.  Frances  glided  about, 
tearful  and  agitated,  while  Mr.  Wharton  stood  ready  to  receive 
them,  decked  in  a suit  of  velvet  that  would  have  been  conspicuous 
in  the  gayest  drawing-room.  Colonel  Wellmere  was  in  the  uniform 
of  an  officer  of  the  household  troops  of  his  prince,  and  Isabella  Sin- 
gleton sat  in  the  parlour,  clad  in  the  habiliments  of  joy,  but  with  a 
countenance  that  belied  her  appearance ; while  her  brother  by  her 
side,  looked,  with  a cheek  of  flitting  colour,  and  an  eye  of  intense 
interest,  like  any  thing  but  an  invalid.  As  it  was  the  third  day 
that  he  had  left  his  room,  Dr.  Sitgreaves,  who  began  to  stare  about 
him  in  stupid  wonder,  forgot  to  reprove  his  patient  for  imprudence. 
Into  this  scene  Captain  Lawton  moved  with  all  the  composure  and 
gravity  of  a man  whose  nerves  were  not  easily  discomposed  by  novel- 
ties. His  compliments  were  received  as  graciously  as  they  were 
offered,  and  after  exchanging  a few  words  with  the  different  indi- 
viduals present,  he  approached  the  surgeon,  who  had  withdrawn,  in 
a kind  of  confused  astonishment,  to  rally  his  senses. 

“John,”  whispered  the  surgeon,  with  awakened  curiosity,  “what 
means  this  festival?” 

“ That  your  wig  and  my  black  head  would  look  the  better  for  a 
little  of  Betty  Flanagan’s  flour ; but  it  is  too  late  now,  and  we  must 
fight  the  battle  armed  as  you  see.” 

“ Observe,  here  comes  the  army  chaplain  in  his  full  robes,  as  a 
Doctor  Divinitatis;  what  can  it  mean?” 

“An  exchange,”  said  the  trooper;  “the  wounded  of  Cupid  are 
to  meet  and  settle  their  accounts  with  the  god,  in  the  way  of  plight- 
ing faith  to  suffer  from  his  archery  no  more.” 

The  surgeon  laid  a finger  on  the  side  of  his  ncse,  and  he  began  to 
comprehend  the  case. 

“ Is  it  not  a crying  shame,  that  a sunshine-hero,  and  an  enemy, 
should  thus  be  suffered  to  steal  away  one  of  the  fairest  plants  that 


THE  SPY. 


277 


grows  in  our  soil,”  muttered  Lawton ; u a flower  fit  to  be  placed  in 
the  bosom  of  any  man.” 

“If  he  be  not  more  accommodating  as  a husband  than  as  a 
patient,  John,  I fear  me  that  the  lady  will  lead  a troubled  life.” 

u Let  her,”  said  the  trooper,  indignantly ; “ she  has  chosen  from 
her  country’s  enemies,  and  may  she  meet  with  a foreigner’s  virtues 
in  her  choice.” 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Miss  Peyton,  who, 
advancing,  acquainted  them  that  they  had  been  invited  to  grace  the 
nuptials  of  her  eldest  niece  and  Colonel  Wellmere.  The  gentlemen 
bowed ; and  the  good  aunt,  with  an  inherent  love  of  propriety,  went 
on  to  add,  that  the  acquaintance  was  of  an  old  date,  and  the  attach- 
ment by  no  means  a sudden  thing.  To  this  Lawton  merely  bowed 
still  more  ceremoniously;  but  the  surgeon,  who  loved  to  hold  con- 
verse with  the  virgin,  replied  — 

“ That  the  human  mind  was  differently  constituted  in  different 
individuals.  In  some,  impressions  are  vivid  and  transitory;  in 
others,  more  deep  and  lasting : — indeed,  there  are  some  philoso- 
phers who  pretend  to  trace  a connection  between  the  physical  and 
mental  powers  of  the  animal ; but,  for  my  part,  madam,  I believe 
that  the  one  is  much  influenced  by  habit  and  association,  and  the 
other  subject  altogether  to  the  peculiar  laws  of  matter.” 

Miss  Peyton,  in  her  turn,  bowed  her  silent  assent  to  this  remark, 
and  retired  with  dignity,  to  usher  the  intended  bride  into  the  pre- 
sence of  the  company.  The  hour  had  arrived  when  American  cus- 
tom has  decreed  that  the  vows  of  wedlock  must  be  exchanged ; and 
Sarah,  blushing  with  a variety  of  emotions,  followed  her  aunt  to  the 
drawing-room.  Wellmere  sprang  to  receive  the  hand  that,  with  an 
averted  face,  she  extended  towards  him,  and,  for  the  first  time,  the 
English  Colonel  appeared  fully  conscious  of  the  important  part  that 
he  was  to  act  in  the  approaching  ceremony.  Hitherto  his  air  had 
been  abstracted,  and  his  manner  uneasy;  but  e’very  thing,  excepting 
;he  certainty  of  his  bliss,  seemed  to  vanish  at  the  blaze  of  loveliness 


278 


THE  SPY. 


that  now  hurst  on  his  sight.  All  arose  from  their  seats,  and  the 
reverend  gentleman  had  already  opened  the  sacred  volume,  when 
the  absence  of  Frances  was  noticed:  Miss  Peyton  withdrew  in 
search  of  her  youngest  niece,  whom  she  found  in  her  own  apartment, 
and  in  tears. 

“ Come,  my  love,  the  ceremony  waits  but  for  us,”  said  the  aunt, 
affectionate^  entwining  her  arm  in  that  of  her  niece ; “ endeavour 
to  compose  yourself,  that  proper  honour  may  be  done  to  the  choice 
of  your  sister.” 

“ Is  he  — can  he  be  worthy  of  her  ?” 

“Can  he  be  otherwise?”  returned  Miss  Peyton;  “is  he  not  a 
gentleman  ? — a gallant  soldier,  though  an  unfortunate  one  ? and 
certainly,  my  love,  one  who  appears  every  way  qualified  to  make  any 
woman  happy.” 

Frances  had  given  vent  to  her  feelings,  and,  with  an  effort,  she 
collected  sufficient  resolution  to  venture  to  join  the  party  below. 
But  to  relieve  the  embarrassment  of  this  delay,  the  clergyman  had 
put  sundry  questions  to  the  bridegroom ; one  of  which  was  by  no 
means  answered  to  his  satisfaction.  Wellmere  was  compelled  to 
acknowledge  that  he  was  unprovided  with  a ring ; and  to  perform 
the  marriage  ceremony  without  one,  the  divine  pronounced  to  be 
canonically  impossible.  His  appeal  to  Mr.  Wharton,  for  the  pro- 
priety of  this  decision,  was  answered  affirmatively,  as  it  would  have 
been  negatively,  had  the  question  been  put  in  a manner  to  lead  to 
such  a result.  The  owner  of  the  Locusts  had  lost  the  little  energy 
he  possessed,  by  the  blow  recently  received  through  his  son,  and  his 
assent  to  the  objection  of  the  clergyman  was  as  easily  obtained  as 
had  been  his  consent  to  the  premature  proposals  of  Wellmere.  In 
this  stage  of  the  dilemma,  Miss  Peyton  and  Frances  appeared.  The 
surgeon  of  dragoons  approached  the  former,  and  as  he  handed  her 
to  a chair,  observed  — 

“ It  appears,  madam,  that  untoward  circumstances  have  prevented 
Colonel  Wellmere  from  providing  all  of  the  decorations  that  custom, 


THE  SPY. 


279 


antiquity,  and  the  canons  of  the  church  have  prescribed  as  indispen- 
sable to  enter  into  the  honourable  state  of  wedlock.” 

Miss  Peyton  glanced  her  quiet  eye  at  the  uneasy  bridegroom,  and 
perceiving  him  to  be  adorned  with  what  she  thought  sufficient  splen- 
dour, allowing  for  the  time  and  the  suddenness  of  the  occasion,  she 
turned  her  look  on  the  speaker,  as  if  to  demand  an  explanation. 

The  surgeon  understood  her  wishes,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
gratify  them. 

u There  is,”  he  observed,  “ an  opinion  prevalent,  that  the  heart 
lies  on  the  left  side  of  the  body,  and  that  the  connection  between 
the  members  of  that  side  and  what  may  be  called  the  seat  of  life,  is 
more  intimate  than  that  which  exists  with  their  opposites.  But  this 
is  an  error  that  grows  out  of  an  ignorance  of  the  organic  arrange  - 
ment of  the  human  frame.  In  obedience  to  this  opinion,  the  fourth 
finger  of  the  left  hand  is  thought  to  contain  a virtue  that  belongs  to 
no  other  branch  of  that  digitated  member ; and  it  is  ordinarily  en- 
circled, during  the  solemnization  of  wedlock,  with  a cincture  or  ring, 
as  if  to  chain  that  affection  to  the  marriage  state,  which  is  best  se- 
cured by  the  graces  of  the  female  character.”  While  speaking, 
the  operator  laid  his  hand  expressively  on  his  heart,  and  he  bowed 
nearly  to  the  floor  when  he  had  concluded. 

u I know  not,  sir,  that  I rightly  understand  your  meaning,”  said 
Miss  Peyton,  whose  want  of  comprehension  was  sufficiently  ex- 
cusable. 

*‘A  ring,  madam  — a ring  is  wanting  for  the  ceremony.” 

The  instant  that  the  surgeon  spoke  explicitly,  the  awkwardness  of 
the  situation  was  understood.  She  glanced  her  eyes  at  her  nieces, 
and  in  the  younger  she  read  a secret  exultation  that  somewhat  dis- 
pleased her ; but  the  countenance  of  Sarah  was  suffused  with  a shame 
that  the  considerate  aunt  well  understood.  Not  for  the  world  would 
the  violate  any  of  the  observances  of  female  etiquette.  It  sug- 
gested itself  to  all  the  females,  at  the  same  moment,  that  the  wed- 
ding-ring of  the  late  mother  and  sister  was  reposing  peacefully  amid 


280 


THE  SPY. 


the  rest  of  her  jewellery,  in  a secret  receptacle,  that  had  been  pro- 
vided at  an  early  day,  to  secure  the  valuables  against  the  predatory 
inroads  of  the  marauders  who  roamed  through  the  county.  Into 
this  hidden  vault,  the  plate,  and  whatever  was  most  prized,  made  a 
nightly  retreat,  and  there  the  ring  in  question  had  long  lain,  forgot- 
ten until  at  this  moment.  But  it  was  the  business  of  the  bride- 
groom, from  time  immemorial,  to  furnish  this  indispensable  to  wed- 
lock, and  on  no  account  would  Miss  Peyton  do  any  thing  that  tran- 
scended the  usual  reserve  of  the  sex  on  this  solemn  occasion  ; cer- 
tainly not  until  sufficient  expiation  for  the  offence  had  been  made, 
by  a due  portion  of  trouble  and  disquiet.  This  material  fact,  there- 
fore, was  not  disclosed  by  either;  the  aunt  consulting  female  pro- 
priety; the  bride  yielding  to  shame;  and  Frances  rejoicing  that  an 
embarrassment,  proceeding  from  almost  any  cause,  should  delay  her 
sister’s  vow.  It  was  reserved  for  Dr.  Sitgreaves  to  interrupt  the 
awkward  silence. 

u If,  madam,  a plain  ring,  that  once  belonged  to  a sister  of  my 
own  — ” He  paused,  and  hemmed  - — “ If,  madam,  a ring  of  that 
description  might  be  admitted  to  this  honour,  I have  one  that  could 
be  easily  produced  from  my  quarters  at  the  Corners,  and  I doubt  not 
it  would  fit  the  finger  for  which  it  is  desired.  There  is  a strong 
resemblance  between  — hem  — between  my  late  sister  and  Miss 
Wharton,  in  stature  and  anatomical  figure ; and,  in  all  eligible  sub- 
jects, the  proportions  are  apt  to  be  observed  throughout  the  whole 
animal  economy.” 

A glance  of  Miss  Peyton’s  eye  recalled  Colonel  Wellmere  to  a 
sense  of  his  duty,  and  springing  from  his  chair,  he  assured  the  sur- 
geon, that  in  no  way  could  he  confer  a greater  obligation  on  himself 
than  by  sending  for  that  very  ring.  The  operator  bowed  a little 
haughtily,  and  withdrew  to  fulfil  his  promise,  by  despatching  a mes- 
senger on  the  errand.  The  aunt  suffered  him  to  retire ; but  unwill- 
ngness  to  admit  a stranger  into  the  privacy  of  their  domestic  arrange- 
ments, induced  her  to  follow  and  tender  the  services  of  Caesar,  in- 


THE  SPY. 


281 


stead  of  those  of  Sitgreaves’s  man,  who  had  volunteered  for  this 
duty.  Katy  Haynes  was  accordingly  directed  to  summon  the  black 
to  the  vacant  parlour,  and  thither  Miss  Peyton  and  the  surgeon 
repaired,  to  give  their  several  instructions. 

The  consent  to  this  sudden  union  of  Sarah  and  Wellmere,  and 
especially  at  a time  when  the  life  of  a member  of  the  family  was  in 
such  imminent  jeopardy,  was  given  from  a conviction,  that  the  un- 
settled state  of  the  country  would  probably  prevent  another  oppor- 
tunity of  the  lovers  meeting,  and  a secret  dread  on  the  part  of  Mr. 
Wharton,  that  the  death  of  his  son  might,  by  hastening  his  own, 
leave  his  remaining  children  without  a protector.  But  notwithstand- 
ing Miss  Peyton  had  complied  with  her  brother’s  wish  to  profit  by 
the  accidental  visit  of  a divine,  she  had  not  thought  it  necessary  to 
blazon  the  intended  nuptials  of  her  niece  to  the  neighbourhood,  had 
even  time  been  allowed : she  thought,  therefore,  that  she  was 
now  communicating  a profound  secret  to  the  negro  and  her  house- 
keeper. 

u Caesar,”  she  commenced,  with  a smile,  “ you  are  now  to  learn 
that  your  young  mistress,  Miss  Sarah,  is  to  be  united  to  Colonel 
Wellmere  this  evening.” 

u I tink  I see  him  afore,”  said  Caesar,  chuckling ; u old  black  man 
can  tell  when  a young  lady  make  up  he  mind.” 

u Beally,  Caesar,  I find  I have  never  given  you  credit  for  half  the 
observation  that  you  deserve;  but  as  you  already  know  on  what 
emergency  your  services  are  required,  listen  to  the  directions  of  this 
gentleman,  and  take  care  to  observe  them  strictly.” 

The  black  turned  in  quiet  submission  to  the  surgeon,  who  com- 
menced as  follows : — 

“ Caesar,  your  mistress  has  already  acquainted  you  with  the  im- 
portant event  about  to  be  solemnised  within  this  habitation ; but  a 
cincture  or  ring  is  wanting  to  encircle  the  finger  of  the  bride ; a 
custom  derived  from  the  ancients,  and  which  has  been  continued  in 
the  marriage  forms  of  several  branches  of  the  Christian  church,  and 


THE  SFY, 


Z82 

which  is  even,  by  a species  of  typical  wedlock,  used  in  the  installa- 
tion of  prelates,  as  you  doubtless  understand.” 

“ Pr’aps  massa  doctor  will  say  him  over  ag’in,”  interrupted  the 
old  negro,  whose  memory  began  to  fail  him,  just  as  the  other  made 
so  confident  an  allusion  to  his  powers  of  comprehension ; “ I tink  I 
get  him  by  heart  dis  time.” 

“It  is  impossible  to  gather  honey  from  a rock,  Caesar,  and  there- 
fore  I will  abridge  the  little  I have  to  say.  Ride  to  the  Four 
Corners,  and  present  this  note  to  Sergeant  Hollister,  or  to  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Flanagan,  either  of  whom  will  furnish  the  necessary 
pledge  of  connubial  affection;  and  return  forthwith.” 

The  letter  which  the  surgeon  put  into  the  hands  of  his  messenger, 
as  he  ceased,  was  conceived  in  the  following  terms  : — 

“If  the  fever  has  left  Kinder,  give  him  nourishment.  Take 
three  ounces  more  of  blood  from  Watson.  Have  a search  made 
that  the  woman  Flanagan  has  left  none  of  her  jugs  of  alcohol  in  the 
hospital.  Renew  the  dressings  of  Johnson,  and  dismiss  Smith  to 
duty.  Send  the  ring,  which  is  pendent  from  the  chain  of  the 
watch,  that  I left  with  you  to  time  the  doses,  by  the  bearer. 

Archibald  Sitgreayes,  M.  D. 

“ Surgeon  of  Dragoons.” 

“ Caesar,”  said  Katy,  when  she  was  alone  with  the  black,  “ put 
the  ring,  when  you  get  it,  in  your  left  pocket,  for  that  is  nearest  your 
heart ; and  by  no  means  endeavour  to  try  it  on  your  finger,  for  it  is 
unlucky.” 

“ Try  um  on  he  finger  ?”  interrupted  the  negro,  stretching  forth 
his  bony  knuckles;  “tink  a Miss  Sally’s  ring  go  on  old  Caesar  finger  ?” 

“ ’T  is  not  consequential  whether  it  goes  on  or  not,”  said  the 
housekeeper ; “ but  it  is  an  evil  omen  to  place  a marriage-ring  on 
the  finger  of  another  after  wedlock,  and  of  course  it  may  be  danger 
ous  before.” 


THE  SPY. 


283 


u I tell  you,  Katy,  I neber  tink  to  put  um  on  a finger.” 

“ Go  then,  Caesar,  and  do  not  forget  the  left  pocket ; be  careful 
to  take  off  your  hat  as  you  pass  the  grave-yard,  and  be  expeditious  ; 
for  nothing,  I am  certain,  can  be  more  trying  to  the  patience,  than 
thus  to  be  waiting  for  the  ceremony,  when  a body  has  fully  made 
up  her  mind  to  marry.” 

With  this  injunction  Caesar  quitted  the  house,  and  he  was  soon 
firmly  fixed  in  the  saddle.  From  his  youth,  the  black,  like  all  of 
his  race,  had  been  a hard  rider ; but,  bending  under  the  weight  of 
sixty  winters,  his  African  blood  had  lost  some  of  its  native  heat. 
The  night  was  dark,  and  the  wind  whistled  through  the  vale  with  the 
dreariness  of  November.  When  Caesar  reached  the  grave-yard,  he 
uncovered  his  grizzled  head  with  superstitious  awe,  and  he  threw 
around  him  many  a fearful  glance,  in  momentary  expectation  of 
seeing  something  superhuman.  There  was  sufficient  light  to  discern 
a being  of  earthly  mould  stealing  from  among  the  graves,  apparently 
with  a design  to  enter  the  highway.  It  is  in  vain  that  philosophy 
and  reason  contend  with  early  impressions,  and  poor  Csesar  was  even 
without  the  support  of  either  of  these  frail  allies.  He  was,  how- 
ever, well  mounted  on  a coach-horse  of  Mr.  Wharton’s,  and,  clinging 
to  the  back  of  the  animal  with  instinctive  skill,  he  abandoned  the 
rein  to  the  beast.  Hillocks,  woods,  rocks,  fences,  and  houses  flew 
by  him  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  and  the  black  had  just  begun 
to  think  whither  and  on  what  business  he  was  riding  in  this  headlong 
manner,  when  he  reached  the  place  where  the  roads  met,  and  the 
“ Hotel  Flanagan”  stood  before  him  in  its  dilapidated  simplicity. 
The  sight  of  a cheerful  fire  first  told  the  negro  that  he  had  reached 
the  habitation  of  man,  and  with  it  came  all  his  dread  of  the  bloody 
Virginians;  — his  duty  must,  however,  be  done,  and,  dismounting, 
he  fastened  the  foaming  animal  to  a fence,  and  approached  the  win- 
dow with  cautious  steps,  to  reconnoitre. 

Before  a blazing  fire  sat  Sergeant  Hollister  and  Betty  Flanagan, 
enjoying  themselves  over  a liberal  potation 


284 


THE  SPY. 


u I tell  yee,  Sargeant  dear,”  said  Betty,  removing  the  mug  from 
her  mouth,  “’tis  no  rasonable  to  think  it  was  more  than  the  pidler 
himself ; sure  now,  where  was  the  smell  of  sulphur,  and  the  wings, 
and  the  tail,  and  the  cloven  foot  ? — besides,  Sargeant,  it ’s  no  dacent 
to  tell  a lone  famale  that  she  had  Beelzeboob  for  a bedfellow.” 

“ It  matters  but  little,  Mrs.  Flanagan,  provided  you  escape  his 
talons  and  fangs  hereafter,”  returned  the  veteran,  following  the  re- 
mark by  a heavy  draught. 

Caesar  heard  enough  to  convince  him,  that  little  danger  from  this 
pair  was  to  be  apprehended.  His  teeth  already  began  to  chatter, 
and  the  cold  without  and  the  comfort  within  stimulated  him  greatly 
to  enter.  He  made  his  approaches  with  proper  caution,  and  knocked 
with  extreme  humility.  The  appearance  of  Hollister  with  a drawn 
sword,  roughly  demanding  who  was  without,  contributed  in  no  de- 
gree to  the  restoration  of  his  faculties ; but  fear  itself  lent  him  power 
to  explain  his  errand. 

u Advance,”  said  the  Sergeant,  throwing  a look  of  close  scrutiny 
on  the  black,  as  he  brought  him  to  the  light ; “ advance,  and  deliver 
your  despatches  : have  you  the  countersign  ?” 

u I don’t  tink  he  know  what  dat  be,”  said  the  black,  shaking  in 
his  shoes,  u dough  massa  dat  sent  me  gib  me  many  tings  to  carry, 
dat  he  little  understand.” 

u Who  ordered  you  on  this  duty,  did  you  say  ?” 

“Well,  it  war  he  doctor,  heself,  so  he  come  up  on  a gallop,  as  he 
alway  do  on  a doctor’s  errand.” 

“’Twas  Doctor  Sitgreaves;  he  never  knows  the  countersign  him- 
self. Now,  blackey,  had  it  been  Captain  Lawton,  he  would  not 
have  sent  you  here,  close  to  a sentinel,  without  the  countersign ; for 
you  might  get  a pistol  bullet  through  your  head,  and  that  would  be 
cruel  to  you ; for  although  you  be  black,  I am  none  of  them  who 
xhinks  niggers  have  no  souls.” 

a Sure  a nagur  has  as  much  sowl  as  a white,”  said  Betty ; u come 
hither,  ould  man,  and  warm  that  shivering  carcase  of  yeers  by  the 


THE  SPY. 


285 


blaze  of  this  fire.  I ’m  sure  a Guinea  nagur  loves  hate  as  much  as 
a souldier  loves  his  drop.” 

Caesar  obeyed  in  silence,  and  a mulatto  boy,  who  was  sleeping  on 
a bench  in  the  room,  was  bidden  to  convey  the  note  of  the  surgeon 
to  the  building  where  the  wounded  were  quartered. 

“ Here,”  said  the  washerwoman,  tendering  to  Caesar  a taste  of  the 
article  that  most  delighted  herself,  u try  a drop,  smooty,  ’t  will  warm 
the  black  sowl  within  your  crazy  body,  and  be  giving  you  spirits  as 
you  are  going  homeward.” 

“ I tell  you,  Elizabeth,”  said  the  Sergeant,  “ that  the  souls  of 
niggers  are  the  same  as  our  own;  how  often  have  I heard  the  good 
Mr.  Whitfield  say,  that  there  was  no  distinction  of  colour  in  heaven. 
Therefore  it  is  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  soul  of  this  here  black 
is  as  white  as  my  own,  or  even  Major  Dunwoodie’s.” 

“ Be  sure  he  be,”  cried  Caesar,  a little  tartly,  whose  courage  had 
revived  by  tasting  the  drop  of  Mrs.  Flanagan. 

“It's  a good  sowl  that  the  Major  is,  any  way,”  returned  the 
washerwoman ; “ and  a kind  sowl  — ay,  and  a brave  sowl  too ; and 
yee’ll  say  all  that  yeerself,  Sargeant,  I'm  thinking.” 

u For  the  matter  of  that,”  returned  the  veteran,  u there  is  one 
above  even  Washington,  to  judge  of  souls;  but  this  I will  say,  that 
Major  Dunwoodie  is  a gentleman  who  never  says,  Go,  boys  — but 
always  say?,  Come,  boys;  and  if  a poor  fellow  is  in  want  of  a spur 
or  a martingale,  and  the  leather-whack  is  gone,  there  is  never  want- 
ing the  real  silver  to  make  up  the  loss,  and  that  from  his  own  pocket 
too.” 

u Why,  then,  are  you  here  idle  when  all  that  he  holds  most  dear 
are  in  danger?”  cried  a voice  with  startling  abruptness;  “ mount, 
mount,  and  follow  your  captain ; arm  and  mount,  and  that  instantly, 
or  you  will  be  too  late !” 

This  unexpected  interruption  produced  an  instantaneous  confusion 
amongst  the  tipplers.  Cmsar  fled  instinctively  into  the  fire-place, 
where  he  maintained  his  position  in  defiance  of  a heat  that  would 


T HE  S r Y. 


have  roasted  a white  man.  Sergeant  Hollister  turned  promptly  on 
his  heel5  and  seizing  his  sabre,  the  steel  was  glittering  by  the  fire- 
light, in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye ; but  perceiving  the  intruder  to  be 
the  pedler,  who  stood  near  the  open  door  that  led  to  the  lean-to  in 
the  rear,  he  began  to  fall  back  towards  the  position  of  the  black, 
with  a military  intuition  that  taught  him  to  concentrate  his  forces. 
Betty  alone  stood  her  ground,  by  the  side  of  the  temporary  table. 
Replenishing  the  mug  with  a large  addition  of  the  article  known  to 
the  soldiery  by  the  name  of  u choke-dog,”  she  held  it  towards  the 
pedler.  The  eyes  of  the  washerwoman  had  for  some  time  been 
swimming  with  love  and  liquor,  and  turning  them  good-naturedly 
on  Birch,  she  cried  — 

“ Faith,  but  yee  're  wilcome,  Mister  Pidler,  or  Mister  Birch,  or 
Mister  Beelzeboob,  or  what 's  yeer  name.  Yee 're  an  honest  divil 
any  way,  and  I 'm  hoping  that  you  found  the  pitticoats  convanient. 
Come  forward,  dear,  and  fale  the  fire ; Sargeant  Hollister  won't  be 
hurting  you,  for  the  fear  of  an  ill  turn  you  may  be  doing  him  here- 
after— will  yee,  sargeant,  dear?” 

u Depart,  ungodly  man  !”  cried  the  veteran,  edging  still  nearer  to 
Csesar,  but  lifting  his  legs  alternately  as  they  scorched  with  the  heat, 
“ depart  in  peace  ! There  is  none  here  for  thy  service,  and  you  seek 
the  woman  in  vain.  There  is  a tender  mercy  that  will  save  her 
from  thy  talons.”  The  Sergeant  ceased  to  utter  aloud,  but  the  mo- 
tion of  his  lips  continued,  and  a few  scattering  words  of  prayer  were 
alone  audible. 

The  brain  of  the  washerwoman  was  in  such  a state  of  confusion 
that  she  did  not  clearly  comprehend  the  meaning  of  her  suitor,  but 
a new  idea  struck  her  imagination,  and  she  broke  forth  — 

“If  it 's  me  the  man  saaks,  where 's  the  matter,  pray  ? am  I not 
a widowed  body,  and  my  own  property  ? And  you  talk  of  tinder- 
ness,  sargeant;  but  it's  little  I see  of  it  any  way  : who  knows  but 
Mr.  Beelzeboob  here  is  free  to  spake  his  mind ? I'm  sure  it  is  wil- 
ling to  hear  I am.” 


THE  STY. 


287 


“ Woman/' 7 said  the  pedler,  “ be  silent ; and  you,  foolish  man, 
mount  — arm  and  mount,  and  fly  to  the  rescue  of  your  officer,  if 
you  are  worthy  of  the  cause  in  which  you  serve,  and  would  not  dis- 
grace the  coat  you  wear/7  The  pedler  vanished  from  the  sight  of 
the  bewildered  trio,  with  a rapidity  that  left  them  uncertain  whither 
he  had  fled 

On  hearing  the  voice  of  an  old  friend,  Csesar  emerged  from  his 
corner,  and  fearlessly  advanced  to  the  spot  where  Betty  had  reso- 
lutely maintained  her  ground,  though  in  a state  of  utter  mental 
confusion. 

“I  wish  Harvey  stop/7  said  the  black;  “if  he  ride  down  a road, 
I should  like  he  company;  — I don7t  tink  Johnny  Birch  hurt  he 
own  son.77 

“ Poor  ignorant  wretch  !77  exclaimed  the  veteran,  recovering  his 
voice  with  a long-drawn  breath ; “ think  you  that  figure  was  made 
of  flesh  and  blood?77 

“ Harvey  an’t  fleshy/7  replied  the  black,  “ but  he  berry  clebber 
man.77 

“ Pooh ! sargeant  dear/7  exclaimed  the  washerwoman,  “ talk 
rason  for  once,  and  mind  what  the  knowing  one  tells  yee;  call 
out  the  boys,  and  ride  a bit  after  Captain  J ack ; rimimber,  darling, 
that  he  told  yee,  the  day,  to  be  in  readiness  to  mount  at  a moments 
warning.77 

“Ay,  but  not  at  a summons  from  the  foul  fiend.  Let  Captain 
Lawton,  or  Lieutenant  Mason,  or  Cornet  Skipwith,  say  the  word, 
and  who  is  quicker  in  the  saddle  than  I ?77 

“Well,  Sargeant,  how  often  is  it  that  yee7ve  boasted  to  myself 
that  the  corps  was  n7t  a bit  afeard  to  face  the  divil  ?77 

“ No  more  are  we,  in  battle  array,  and  by  daylight;  but  it 7s  fool- 
hardy and  irreverent  to  tempt  Satan,  and  on  such  a night  as  this : 
listen  how  the  wind  whistles  through  the  trees ; and  hark ! there  is 
the  howling  of  evil  spirits  abroad.77 


288 


T HE  S P r. 


/ 


“ I see  him,”  said  Csesar,  opening  his  eyes  to  a width  that  might 
have  embraced  more  than  an  ideal  form. 

“ Where  ?”  interrupted  the  Sergeant,  instinctively  laying  his  hand 
on  the  hilt  of  his  sabre 

“No  — no/*  said  the  black,  “I  see  a Johnny  Birch  come  out  of 
he  grave  — J ohnny  walk  afore  he  buried.” 

“ Ah  ! then  he  must  have  led  an  evil  life  indeed/'  said  Hollister; 
the  blessed  in  spirit  lie  quiet  until  the  general  muster,  but  wickedness 
disturbs  the  soul  in  this  life  as  well  as  in  that  which  is  to  come.” 
“And  what  is  to  come  of  Captain  Jack?”  cried  Betty,  angrily; 
“is  it  yeer  orders  that  yee  won't  mind,  nor  a warning  given ? I '11 
jist  git  my  cart,  and  ride  down  and  tell  him  that  yee  're  afeard  of  a 
dead  man  and  Beelzeboob ; and  it  is  n't  succour  he  may  be  expicting 
from  yee.  I wonder  who  '11  be  the  orderly  of  the  troop  the  morrow, 
then  ? — his  name  won't  be  Hollister,  any  way.” 

“ Nay,  Betty,  nay,”  said  the  Sergeant,  laying  his  hand  familiarly 
on  her  shoulder ; “ if  there  must  be  riding  to-night,  let  it  be  by  him 
whose  duty  it  is  to  call  out  the  men  and  to  set  an  example.  The 
Lord  have  mercy,  and  send  us  enemies  of  flesh  and  blood !” 

Another  glass  confirmed  the  veteran  in  a resolution  that  was  only 
excited  by  a dread  of  his  Captain's  displeasure,  and  he  proceeded  to 
summon  the  dozen  men  who  had  been  left  under  his  command. 
The  boy  arriving  with  the  ring,  Caesar  placed  it  carefully  in  the 
pocket  of  his  waistcoat  next  his  heart,  and,  mounting,  shut  his  eyes, 
seized  his  charger  by  the  mane,  and  continued  in  a state  of  compara- 
tive insensibility,  until  the  animal  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  warm 
stable  whence  he  had  started. 

The  movements  of  the  dragoons,  being  timed  to  the  order  of  a 
march,  were  much  slower,  for  they  were  made  with  a watchfulness 
that  was  intended  to  guard  against  surprise  from  the  evil  one 
himself. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Be  not  your  tongue  thy  own  shame’s  orator ; 

I/ook  sweet,  speak  fair,  become  disloyalty  > 

Apparel  vice  like  virtue’s  harbinger. 

Comedy  of  Errors. 

The  situation  of  the  party  in  Mr.  Wharton's  dwelling  was  suffi- 
ciently awkward,  during  the  hour  of  Caesar's  absence ; for  such  was 
the  astonishing  rapidity  displayed  by  his  courser,  that  the  four  miles 
of  road  was  gone  over,  and  the  events  we  have  recorded  had  occurred, 
somewhat  within  that  period  of  time.  Of  course,  the  gentlemen 
strove  to  make  the  irksome  moments  fly  as  swiftly  as  possible ; but 
premeditated  happiness  is  certainly  of  the  least  joyous  kind.  The 
bride  and  bridegroom  are  immemorially  privileged  to  be  dull,  and 
but  few  of  their  friends  seemed  disposed,  on  the  present  occasion,  to 
dishonour  their  example.  The  English  Colonel  exhibited  a proper 
portion  of  uneasiness  at  this  unexpected  interruption  of  his  felicity, 
and  he  sat  with  a varying  countenance  by  the  side  of  Sarah,  who 
seemed  to  be  profiting  by  the  delay  to  gather  fortitude  for  the  solemn 
ceremony.  In  the  midst  of  this  embarrassing  silence,  Dr.  Sitgreaves 
addressed  himself  to  Miss  Peyton,  by  whose  side  he  had  contrived 
to  procure  a chair. 

u Marriage,  madam,  is  pronounced  to  be  honourable  in  the  sight 
of  God  and  man : and  it  may  be  said  to  be  reduced,  in  the  present 
age,  to  the  laws  of  nature  and  reason.  The  ancients,  in  sanctioning 
polygamy,  lost  sight  of  the  provisions  of  nature,  and  condemned 
thousands  to  misery,  but  with  the  increase  of  science  have  grown 
the  wise  ordinances  of  society,  which  ordain  that  man  should  be  th° 
husband  of  but  one  woman." 


13 


290 


THE  SPY. 


Wellmere  glanced  a fierce  expression  of  disgust  at  the  surgeon 
that  indicated  his  sense  of  the  tediousness  of  the  other's  remarks : 
while  Miss  Peyton,  with  a slight  hesitation,  as  if  fearful  of  touching 
on  forbidden  subjects,  replied  — 

“ I had  thought,  sir,  that  we  were  indebted  to  the  Christian  reli- 
gion for  our  morals  on  this  subject." 

u True,  madam,  it  is  somewhere  provided  in  the  prescriptions  of 
the  apostles,  that  the  sexes  should  henceforth  be  on  an  equality  in 
this  particular.  But  in  what  degree  could  polygamy  affect  holiness 
of  life  ? It  was  probably  a wise  arrangement  of  Paul,  who  was  much 
of  a scholar,  and  probably  had  frequent  conferences,  on  this  import- 
ant subject,  with  Luke,  whom  we  all  know  to  have  been  bred  to  the 
practice  of  medicine  — ” 

There  is  no  telling  how  far  the  discursive  fancy  of  Sitgreaves 
might  have  led  him,  on  this  subject,  had  he  not  been  interrupted. 
But  Lawton,  who  had  been  a close  though  silent  observer  of  all  that 
passed,  profited  by  the  hint  to  ask  abruptly  — 

u Pray,  Colonel  Wellmere,  in  what  manner  is  bigamy  punished 
in  England?" 

The  bridegroom  started,  and  his  lip  blanched.  Recovering  him- 
self, however,  on  the  instant,  he  answered  with  a suavity  that  be- 
came so  happy  a man, — 

“ Death  ! — as  such  an  offence  merits,"  he  said. 

“ Death  and  dissection,"  continued  the  operator : “ it  is  seldom 
that  the  law  loses  sight  of  eventual  utility  in  a malefactor.  Bigamy, 
in  a man,  is  a heinous  offence !" 

“ More  so  than  celibacy  ?"  asked  Lawton. 

u More  so,"  returned  the  surgeon,  with  undisturbed  simplicity : 
“ he  who  remains  in  a single  state  may  devote  his  life  to  science  and 
the  extension  of  knowledge,  if  not  of  his  species;  but  the  wretch 
who  profits  by  the  constitutional  tendency  of  the  female  sex  to  cre- 
dulity and  tenderness,  incurs  the  wickedness  of  a positive  sin,  height, 
ened  by  the  baseness  of  deception." 


THE  SPY. 


291 


“ Really,  sir,  the  ladies  are  infinitely  obliged  to  yon,  for  attribut- 
ing folly  to  them  as  part  of  their  nature.” 

u Captain  Lawton,  in  man  the  animal  is  more  nobly  formed  than 
in  woman.  The  nerves  are  endowed  with  less  sensibility  • the  whole 
frame  is  less  pliable  and  yielding ; is  it,  therefore,  surprising,  that  a 
tendency  to  rely  on  the  faith  of  her  partner  is  more  natural  to  woman 
than  to  the  other  sex?” 

Wellmere,  as  if  unable  to  listen  with  any  degree  of  patience  to  so 
ill-timed  a dialogue,  sprang  from  his  seat  and  paced  the  floor  in  dis- 
order. Pitying  his  situation,  the  reverend  gentleman,  who  was  pa- 
tiently awaiting  the  return  of  Caesar,  changed  the  discourse,  and  a 
few  minutes  brought  the  black  himself.  The  billet  was  handed  to 
Dr.  Sitgreaves;  for  Miss  Peyton  had  expressly  enjoined  Caesar  not 
to  implicate  her,  in  any  manner,  in  the  errand  on  which  he  was  des- 
patched. The  note  contained  a summary  statement  of  the  several 
subjects  of  the  surgeon’s  directions,  and  referred  him  to  the  black 
for  the  ring.  The  latter  was  instantly  demanded,  and  promptly  de- 
livered. A transient  look  of  melancholy  crowded  the  brow  of  the 
surgeon,  as  he  stood  a moment,  and  gazed  silently  on  the  bauble ; 
nor  did  he  remember  the  place,  or  the  occasion,  while  he  soliloquised 
as  follows : — 

u Poor  Anna ! gay  as  innocence  and  youth  could  make  thee  was 
thy  heart,  when  this  cincture  was  formed  to  grace  thy  nuptials ; but 
ere  the  hour  had  come,  God  had  taken  thee  to  himself.  Years  have 
passed,  my  sister,  but  never  have  I forgotten  the  companion  of  my 
infancy !”  He  advanced  to  Sarah,  and,  unconscious  of  observation, 
placing  the  ring  on  her  finger,  continued  — u She  for  whom  it  was 
intended  has  long  been  in  her  grave,  and  the  youth  who  bestowed 
the  gift  soon  followed  her  sainted  spirit : take  it,  madam,  and  God 
grant  that  it  may  be  an  instrument  in  making  you  as  happy  as  you 
deserve !” 

Sarah  felt  a chill  at  her  heart,  as  this  burst  of  feeling  escaped  the 
surgeon;  but  Wellmere  offering  his  hand,  she  was  led  before  the 


•292 


THE  SPY, 


divine,  and  the  ceremony  began.  The  first  words  of  this  imposing 
office  produced  a dead  stillness  in  the  apartment : and  the  minister 
of  God  proceeded  to  the  solemn  exhortation,  and  witnessed  the 
plighted  troth  of  the  parties,  when  the  investiture  was  to  follow. 
The  ring  had  been  left,  from  inadvertency,  and  the  agitation  of  the 
moment,  on  the  finger  where  Sitgreaves  had  placed  it : — the  slight 
interruption  occasioned  by  the  circumstance  was  over,  and  the  cler- 
gyman was  about  to  proceed,  when  a figure  gliding  into  the  midst 
of  the  party,  at  once  put  a stop  to  the  ceremony.  It  was  the  pedler. 
His  look  was  bitter  and  ironical,  while  a finger,  raised  towards  the 
divine,  seemed  to  forbid  the  ceremony  to  go  any  farther. 

“ Can  Colonel  Wellmere  waste  the  precious  moments  here,  when 
his  wife  has  crossed  the  ocean  to  meet  him  ? The  nights  are  long, 
and  the  moon  bright;  — a few  hours  will  take  him  to  the  city.” 

Aghast  at  the  suddenness  of  this  extraordinary  address,  Wellmere 
for  a moment  lost  the  command  of  his  faculties.  To  Sarah,  the 
countenance  of  Birch,  expressive  as  it  was,  produced  no  terror;  but 
the  instant  she  recovered  from  the  surprise  of  his  interruption,  she 
turned  her  anxious  gaze  on  the  features  of  the  man  to  whom  she  had 
just  pledged  her  troth.  They  afforded  the  most  terrible  confirma- 
tion of  all  that  the  pedler  affirmed ; the  room  whirled  round,  and 
she  fell  lifeless  into  the  arms  of  her  aunt.  There  is  an  instinctive 
delicacy  in  woman,  that  seems  to  conquer  all  other  emotions ; and 
the  insensible  bride  was  immediately  conveyed  from  sight,  leaving 
the  room  to  the  sole  possession  of  the  other  sex. 

The  confusion  enabled  the  pedler  to  retreat  with  a rapidity  that 
would  have  baffled  pursuit,  had  any  been  attempted,  and  Wellmere 
stood  with  every  eye  fixed  on  him,  in  ominous  silence. 

“?Tis  false  — Tis  false  as  hell!”  he  cried,  striking  his  forehead. 
u I have  ever  denied  her  claim ; nor  will  the  laws  of  my  country 
compel  me  to  acknowledge  it.” 

“But  what  will  conscience  and  the  laws  of  God  do?”  asked 
Lawton. 


THE  SPY. 


293 


“ ’T  is  well,  sir,”  said  Wellmere,  haughtily , and  retreating  towards 
the  door  — “my  situation  protects  you  now;  but  a time  may 
come  — ■” 

He  had  reached  the  entry,  when  a slight  tap  on  his  shoulder 
caused  him  to  turn  his  head ; — it  was  Captain  Lawton,  who,  with  a 
smile  of  peculiar  meaning,  beckoned  him  to  follow.  The  state  of 
Wellmere’ s mind  was  such,  that  he  would  gladly  have  gone  any- 
where to  avoid  the  gaze  of  horror  and  detestation  that  glared  from 
every  eye  he  met.  They  reached  the  stables  before  the  trooper 
spoke,  when  he  cried  aloud — - 

“ Bring  out  Boanoke  !” 

His  man  appeared  with  the  steed  caparisoned  for  its  master. 
Lawton,  coolly  throwing  the  bridle  on  the  neck  of  the  animal,  took 
his  pistols  from  the  holsters,  and  continued  — “ Here  are  weapons 
that  have  seen  good  service  before  to-day  — ay,  and  in  honourable 
hands,  sir.  These  were  the  pistols  of  my  father,  Colonel  Wellmere: 
he  used  them  with  credit  in  the  wars  with  France,  and  gave  them  tc 
me  to  fight  the  battles  of  my  country  with.  In  what  better  way  can 
I serve  her  than  in  exterminating  a wretch  who  would  have  blasted 
one  of  her  fairest  daughters?” 

“ This  injurious  treatment  shall  meet  with  its  reward,”  cried  the 
other,  seizing  the  offered  weapon ; “ the  blood  lie  on  the  head  of 
him  who  sought  it !” 

“Amen ! but  hold  a moment,  sir.  You  are  now  free,  and  the 
passports  of  Washington  are  in  your  pocket;  I give  you  the  fire;  if 
I fall,  there  is  a steed  that  will  outstrip  pursuit ; and  I would  advise 
you  to  retreat  without  much  delay,  for  even  Archibald  Sitgreaves 
would  fight  in  such  a cause  — nor  will  the  guard  above  be  very  apt 
to  give  quarter.” 

“Are  you  ready?”  asked  Wellmere,  gnashing  his  teeth  with  rage. 

“ Stand  forward,  Tom,  with  the  lights;  — fire  !” 

Wellmere  fired,  and  the  bullion  flew  from  the  epaulette  of  the 
trooper. 


294 


THE  SPY. 


“ Now  the  turn  is  mine,”  said  Lawton,  deliberately  levelling  Ins 
pistol.  i 

“And  mine !”  shouted  a voice,  as  the  weapon  was  struck  from  his 
hand.  “ By  all  the  devils  in  hell,  ’t  is  the  mad  Virginian  ! — fall 
on,  my  boys,  and  take  him ; this  is  a prize  not  hoped  for !” 

Unarmed,  and  surprised  as  he  was,  Lawton’s  presence  of  mind 
did  not  desert  him  ; he  felt  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  those  from 
whom  he  was  to  expect  no  mercy ; and,  as  four  of  the  Skinners  felj 
upon  him  at  once,  he  used  his  gigantic  strength  to  the  utmost 
Three  of  the  band  grasped  him  by  the  neck  and  arms,  with  an  intent 
to  clog  his  efforts,  and  pinion  him  with  ropes.  The  first  of  these  he 
threw  from  him,  with  a violence  that  sent  him  against  the  building, 
where  he  lay  stunned  with  the  blow.  But  the  fourth  seized  his 
legs;  and,  unable  to  contend  with  such  odds,  the  trooper  came  to 
the  earth,  bringing  with  him  all  of  his  assailants.  The  struggle  on 
the  ground  was  short  but  terrific ; — curses  and  the  most  dreadful 
imprecations  were  uttered  by  the  Skinners,  who  in  vain  called  on 
more  of  their  band,  who  were  gazing  on  the  combat  in  nerveless 
horror,  to  assist.  A difficulty  of  breathing,  from  one  of  the  com- 
batants, was  heard,  accompanied  by  the  stifled  moanings  of  a 
strangled  man;  and  directly  one  of  the  group  arose  on  his  feet, 
shaking  himself  free  from  the  wild  grasp  of  the  others.  Both  Well- 
mere  and  the  servant  of  Lawton  had  fled ; the  former  to  the  stables, 
and  the  latter  to  give  the  alarm,  leaving  all  in  darkness.  The  figure 
that  stood  erect  sprang  into  the  saddle  of  the  unheeded  charger; 
sparks  of  fire,  issuing  from  the  armed  feet  of  the  horse,  gave  a mo- 
mentary light  by  which  the  captain  was  seen  dashing  like  the  wind 
towards  the  highway. 

“By  hell  he’s  off!”  cried  the  leader,  hoarse  with  rage  and 
exhaustion ; “ fire  ! — bring  him  down  — fire,  or  you  ’ll  be  too  late.’' 

The  order  was  obeyed,  and  one  moment  of  suspense  followed,  in 
the  vain  hope  of  hearing  the  huge  frame  of  Lawton  tumbling  from 
his  steed 


T HE  S r Y . 


296 


“ He  would  not  fall  if  you  had  killed  him/*  muttered  one;  “I've 
known  these  Virginians  sit  their  horses  with  two  or  three  balls 
through  them ; ay,  even  after  they  were  dead/’ 

A freshening  of  the  wind  wafted  the  tread  of  a horse  down  the 
valley , which,  by  its  speed,  gave  assurance  of  a rider  governing  its 
motion. 

“ These  trained  horses  always  stop  when  the  rider  falls/'  observed 
one  of  the  gang. 

“ Then/'  cried  the  leader,  striking  his  musket  on  the  ground  in  a 
rage,  “ the  fellow  is  safe ! — to  your  business  at  once.  A short 
half-hour  will  bring  down  that  canting  Sergeant  and  the  guard  upon 
us.  'T  will  be  lucky  if  the  guns  don't  turn  them  out.  Quick,  to 
your  posts,  and  fire  the  house  in  the  chambers ; smoking  ruins  are 
good  to  cover  evil  deeds." 

“ What  is  to  be  done  with  this  lump  of  earth  ?"  cried  another, 
pushing  the  body  that  yet  lay  insensible,  where  it  had  been  hurled 
by  the  arm  of  Lawton ; “ a little  rubbing  would  bring  him  to. 

“Let  him  lie,"  said  the  leader,  fiercely;  “had  he  been  half  a 
man,  that  dragooning  rascal  would  have  been  in  my  power;  — enter 
the  house,  I say,  and  fire  the  chambers.  We  can't  go  amiss  here; 
— there  is  plate  and  money  enough  to  make  you  all  gentlemen  — 
and  revenge  too." 

The  idea  of  silver  in  any  way  was  not  to  be  resisted ; and,  leaving 
their  companion,  who  began  to  show  faint  signs  of  life,  they  rushed 
tumultuously  towards  the  dwelling.  Wellmere  availed  himself  of 
the  opportunity,  and,  stealing  from  the  stable  with  his  own  charger, 
he  was  able  to  gain  the  highway  unnoticed.  For  an  instant  he  hesi- 
tated, whether  to  ride  towards  the  point  where  he  knew  the  guard 
was  stationed,  and  endeavour  to  i :scue  the  family,  or,  profiting  by 
his  liberty,  and  the  exchange  that  had  been  effected  by  the  divine, 
to  seek  the  royal  army.  Shame,  and  a consciousness  of  guilt,  deter- 
mined him  to  take  the  latter  course,  and  he  rode  towards  New  York, 
stung  with  the  reflection  of  his  own  baseness,  and  harassed  with  the 


‘^96 


THE  SPY. 


apprehension  of  meeting  with  an  enraged  woman,  that  he  had  mar 
ried  during  his  late  visit  to  England,  but  whose  claims,  as  soon  as 
his  passion  was  sated,  he  had  resolved  never  willingly  to  admit.  In 
the  tumult  and  agitation  of  the  moment,  the  retreat  of  Lawton  and 
Wellmere  was  but  little  noticed;  the  condition  of  Mr.  Wharton  de 
manding  the  care  and  consolation  of  both  the  surgeon  and  the  divine 
The  report  of  the  fire-arms  first  roused  the  family  to  the  sense  of  a 
new  danger,  and  but  a moment  elapsed  before  the  leader,  and  one 
more  of  the  gang,  entered  the  room. 

u Surrender ! you  servants  of  King  George,”  shouted  the  leader, 
presenting  his  musket  to  the  breast  of  Sitgreaves,  “ or  I will  let  a 
little  tory  blood  from  your  veins.” 

u Gently  — gently,  my  friend,”  said  the  surgeon ; u you  are 
doubtless  more  expert  in  inflicting  wounds  than  in  healing  them ; 
the  weapon  that  you  hold  so  indiscreetly  is  extremely  dangerous  to 
animal  life.” 

“ Yield,  or  take  its  contents.” 

u Why  and  wherefore  should  I yield  ? — I am  a non-combatant. 
The  articles  of  capitulation  must  be  arranged  with  Captain  John 
Lawton;  though  yielding,  I believe,  is  not  a subject  on  which  you 
will  find  him  particularly  complying.” 

The  fellow  had  by  this  time  taken  such  a survey  of  the  group,  as 
convinced  him  that  little  danger  was  to  be  apprehended  from  resist- 
ance, and,  eager  to  seize  his  share  of  the  plunder,  he  dropped  his 
musket,  and  was  soon  busy,  with  the  assistance  of  his  men,  in 
arranging  divers  articles  of  plate  in  bags.  The  cottage  now  present- 
ed a singular  spectacle ; — the  ladies  were  gathered  around  Sarah, 
who  yet  continued  insensible,  in  one  of  the  rooms  that  had  escaped 
the  notice  of  the  marauders.  Mr.  Wharton  sat  in  a state  of  perfect 
imbecility,  listening  to,  but  not  profiting  by,  the  unmeaning  words 
of  comfort  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  clergyman.  Singleton  was 
lying  on  a sofa,  shaking  with  debility,  and  inattentive  to  surrounding 
objects ; while  the  surgeon  was  administering  restoratives,  and  look* 


THE  S P Y . 


297 


ing  at  the  dressings,  with  a coolness  that  mocked  the  tumult. 
Caesar,  and  the  attendant  of  Captain  Singleton,  had  retreated  to  the 
wood  in  the  rear  of  the  cottage,  and  Katy  Haynes  was  flying  about 
the  building,  busily  employed  in  forming  a bundle  of  valuables,  from 
which,  with  the  most  scrupulous  honesty,  she  rejected  every  article 
that  was  not  really  and  truly  her  own. 

But  to  return  to  the  party  at  the  Four  Corners.  When  the  vete- 
ran had  got  his  men  mounted  and  under  arms,  a restless  desire  to 
participate  in  the  glory  and  dangers  of  the  expedition  came  over  the 
washerwoman.  Whether  she  was  impelled  to  the  undertaking  by  a 
dread  of  remaining  alone,  or  a wish  to  hasten  in  person  to  the  relief 
of  her  favourite,  we  will  not  venture  to  assert • but,  as  Hollister  was 
giving  the  orders  to  wheel  and  march,  the  voice  of  Betty  was  heard, 
exclaiming  — 

“ Stop  a bit,  Sargeant  dear,  till  two  of  the  boys  git  out  the  cart, 
and  I’ll  jist  ride  wid  yee;  ^t  is  like  there ’ll  be  wounded,  and  it  will 
be  mighty  convanient  to  bring  them  home  in.” 

Although  inwardly  much  pleased,  with  any  cause  of  delay,  to  a 
service  that  he  so  little  relished,  Hollister  affected  some  displeasure 
at  the  detention. 

“ Nothing  but  a cannon-ball  can  take  one  of  my  lads  from  his 
charger,”  he  said ) “ and  it ’s  not  very  likely  that  we  shall  have  as 
fair  fighting  as  cannon  and  musketry,  in  a business  of  the  evil  one’s 
inventing ; so,  Elizabeth,  you  may  go  if  you  will,  but  the  cart  will 
not  be  wanting.” 

“Now,  Sargeant  dear,  you  lie,  any  way,”  said  Betty,  who  was 
somewhat  unduly  governed  by  her  potations ; “ and  was  n’t  Captain 
Singleton  shot  off  his  horse  but  tin  days  gone  by  ? ay,  and  Captain 
J ack  himself  too ; and  did  n’t  he  lie  on  the  ground,  face  uppermost, 
and  back  downwards,  looking  grim  ? and  did  n’t  the  boys  tink  him 
dead,  and  turn  and  lave  the  rig’lars  the  day  ?” 

“You  lie  back  again,”  cried  the  Sergeant,  fiercely : “and  so  does 
any  one  who  says  that  we  did  n’t  gain  the  day.” 

13  * 


208 


THE  SPY. 


“ For  a bit  or  so  — only  I mane  for  a bit  or  so,”  said  the  washer- 
woman;  “but  Major  Dunwoodie  turned  you,  and  so  you  licked  the 
rig’iars.  But  the  Captain  it  was  that  fell,  and  I ’m  thinking  that 
there’s  no  better  rider  going;  so,  Sargeant,  it’s  the  cart  will  be 
convanient.  Here,  two  of  you,  jist  hitch  the  mare  to  the  tills,  and 
it ’s  no  whiskey  that  yee  ’ll  be  wanting  the  morrow ; and  put  the 
piece  of  Jenny’s  hide  under  the  pad;  the  baste  is  never  the  better 
for  the  rough  ways  of  the  county  West-Chester.”  The  consent  of 
the  Sergeant  being  obtained,  the  equipage  of  Mrs.  Flanagan  was 
soon  in  readiness  to  receive  its  burthen. 

“ As  it  is  quite  uncertain  whether  we  shall  be  attacked  in  front, 
or  in  rear,”  said  Hollister,  “ five  of  you  shall  march  in  advance,  and 
the  remainder  shall  cover  our  retreat  towards  the  barrack,  should 
we  be  pressed.  ’T  is  an  awful  moment  to  a man  of  little  learning, 
Elizabeth,  to  command  in  such  a service ; for  my  part,  I wish  de- 
voutly that  one  of  the  officers  were  here ; but  my  trust  is  in  the 
Lord.” 

“ Pooh  ! man,  away  wid  yee,”  said  the  washerwoman,  who  had 
got  herself  comfortably  seated ; “ the  divil  a bit  of  an  inimy  is  the^e 
near.  March  on,  hurry-skurry,  and  let  the  mare  trot,  or  it’s  but 
little  that  Captain  Jack  will  thank  yee  for  the  help.” 

“ Although  unlearned  in  matters  of  communicating  with  spirits, 
or  laying  the  dead,  Mrs.  Flanagan,”  said  the  veteran,  “ I have  not 
served  through  the  old  war,  and  five  years  in  this,  not  to  know  how 
to  guard  the  baggage.  Doesn’t  Washington  always  cover  the  bag- 
gage ? I am  not  to  be  told  my  duty  by  a camp  follower.  Fall  in 
as  you  are  ordered,  and  dress,  men.” 

“ Well,  march,  any  way,”  cried  the  impatient  washerwoman ; “ the 
black  is  there  already,  and  it’s  tardy  the  Captain  will  think  yee.” 

“ Are  you  sure  that  it  was  really  a black  man  that  brought  the 
order  ?”  said  the  Sergeant,  dropping  in  between  the  platoons,  where 
he  could  converse  with  Betty,  and  be  at  hand,  to  lead  on  an  emer- 
gency, either  on  an  advance  or  on  a retreat. 


the  s p y . 


299 


“Nay  — and  I’m  sure  of  nothing,  dear.  But  why  don’t  the 
boys  prick  their  horses  and  jog  a trot?  the  mare  i«  mighty  unasy, 
and  it’s  no  warm  in  this  cursed  valley,  riding  as  much  like  a fune- 
ral party  as  old  rags  is  to  continental.”* 

“Fairly  and  softly,  ay,  and  prudently,  Mrs.  Flanagan;  it ?s  not 
rashness  that  makes  the  good  officer.  If  we  have  to  encounter  a 
spirit,  it ’s  more  than  likely  he  ’ll  make  his  attack  by  surprise ; horses 
are  not  very  powerful  in  the  dark,  and  I have  a character  to  lose, 
good  woman.” 

“ Caractur ! and  isn’t  it  caractur  and  life  too  that  Captain  Jack 
has  to  lose?” 

“ Halt !”  cried  the  sergeant;  “ what  is  that  lurking  near  the  foot 
of  the  rock,  on  the  left?” 

“Sure,  it’s  nothing,  unless  it  be  matter  of  Captain  Jack’s  sowl 
that’s  come  to  haunt  yee,  for  not  being  brisker  on  the  march.” 

“ Betty,  your  levity  makes  you  an  unfit  comrade  for  such  an  ex- 
pedition. Advance,  one  of  you,  and  reconnoitre  the  spot; — draw 
swords  ! — rear  rank,  close  to  the  front !” 

“Pshaw!”  shouted  Betty,  “is  it  a big  fool  or  a big  coward  that 
yee  are?  jist  wheel  from  the  road,  boys,  and  I’ll  shove  the  mare 
down  upon  it  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  — and  it’s  no  ghost  that 
I fear.” 

By  this  time  one  of  the  men  had  returned,  and  declared  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  their  advancing,  and  the  party  continued  their 
march,  but  with  great  deliberation  and  caution. 

“ Courage  and  prudence  are  the  jewels  of  a soldier,  Mrs.  Flana- 
gan,” said  the  sergeant : “ without  the  one,  the  other  may  be  said  to 
be  good  for  nothing.” 

* The  paper  money  issued  by  congress  was  familiarly  called  continental 
money.  This  term  “ continental”  was  applied  to  the  army,  the  congress,  the 
ships  of  war,  and,  in  short,  to  almost  every  thing  or  interest  which  belonged 
to  the  new  government.  It  would  seem  to  have  been  invented  as  the  oppo 
site  of  the  insular  position  of  the  mother  country. 


THE  SPY. 


300 

“ Prudence  without  courage:  is  it  that  you  mane?  — and  it’s  so 
that  I'm  thinking  myself,  Sargeant.  This  baste  pulls  tight  on  the 
reins  any  way.” 

“ Be  patient,  good  woman ; — hark  ! what  is  that  ?”  said  Hollister, 
pricking  up  his  ears  at  the  report  of  Wellmere’s  pistol;  “I'll  swear 
that  was  a human  pistol,  and  one  from  our  regiment.  — Bear  rank, 
close  to  the  front ! — Mrs.  Flanagan,  I must  leave  you.”  So  saying, 
having  recovered  all  his  faculties,  by  hearing  a sound  that  he  under- 
stood, he  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  men  with  an  air  of  mili- 
tary pride,  that  the  darkness  prevented  the  washerwoman  from  be- 
holding. A volley  of  musketry  now  rattled  in  the  night  wind,  and 
the  sergeant  exclaimed  — 

“ March  ! — quick  time  !” 

The  next  instant  the  trampling  of  a horse  was  heard  coming  up 
the  road,  at  a rate  that  announced  a matter  of  life  or  death ; and 
Hollister  again  halted  his  party,  riding  a short  distance  in  front  him- 
self, to  meet  the  rider. 

“ Stand  ! — who  goes  there  ?”  shouted  Hollister. 

“ Ha ! Hollister,  is  it  you  ?”  cried  Lawton,  “ ever  ready,  and  at 
your  post;  but  where  is  the  guard?” 

“At  hand,  sir,  and  ready  to  follow  you  through  thick  and  thin,” 
said  the  veteran,  relieved  at  once  from  responsibility,  and  as  eager 
as  a boy  to  be  led  against  his  enemy. 

“'Tis  well  \”  said  the  trooper,  riding  up  to  his  men;  then,  speak- 
ing a few  words  of  encouragement,  he  led  them  down  the  valley  at 
a rate  but  little  less  rapid  than  his  approach.  The  miserable  horse 
of  the  sutler  was  soon  distanced,  and  Betty,  thus  thrown  out  in  the 
chase,  turned  to  the  side  of  the  road,  and  observed  — 

“There  — it's  no  difficult  to  tell  that  Captain  Jack  is  wid  'em, 
any  way ; and  away  they  go  like  so  many  nagur  boys  to  a husking- 
frolic;  — well,  I'll  jist  hitch  the  mare  to  this  bit  of  a fence,  and 
walk  down  and  see  the  sport  afoot  — it's  no  rasonable  to  expose 
the  baste  to  be  hurted.” 


THE  S P ¥ . 


301 


Led  on  by  Lawton,  tlie  men  followed,  destitute  alike  of  fear  and 
reflection.  Whether  it  was  a party  of  the  refugees,  or  a detach- 
ment from  the  royal  army,  that  they  were  to  assail,  they  were  pro- 
foundly ignorant ; but  they  knew  that  the  officer  in  advance  was  dis- 
tinguished for  courage  and  personal  prowess;  and  these  are  virtues 
that  are  sure  to  captivate  the  thoughtless  soldiery.  On  arriving  near 
the  gates  of  the  Locusts,  the  trooper  halted  his  party,  and  made  his 
arrangements  for  the  assault.  Dismounting,  he  ordered  eight  of  his 
men  to  follow  his  example,  and  turning  to  Hollister,  said  — 

“ Stand  you  here,  and  guard  the  horses;  if  any  thing  attempt  to 
pass,  stop  it,  or  cut  it  down,  and  — •”  The  flames  at  this  moment 

burst  through  the  dormer-windows  and  cedar  roof  of  the  cottage,  and 
a bright  light  glared  on  the  darkness  of  the  night.  u On  !”  shouted 
the  trooper,  “ on  ! — give  quarter  when  you  have  done  justice 

There  was  a startling  fierceness  in  the  voice  of  the  trooper  that 
reached  to  the  heart,  even  amid  the  horrors  of  the  cottage.  The 
leader  of  the  Skinners  dropped  his  plunder,  and,  for  a moment, 
he  stood  in  nerveless  dread ; then  rushing  to  a window,  he  threw  up 
the  sash ; — at  this  instant  Lawton  entered,  sabre  in  hand,  into  the 
apartment. 

u Die,  miscreant ! ” cried  the  trooper,  cleaving  a marauder  to  the 
jaw  : but  the  leader  sprang  into  the  lawn,  and  escaped  his  vengeance. 
The  shrieks  of  the  females  restored  Lawton  to  his  presence  of  mind, 
and  the  earnest  entreaty  of  the  divine  induced  him  to  attend  to  the 
safety  of  the  family.  One  more  of  the  gang  fell  in  with  the  dra- 
goons, and  met  his  death ; but  the  remainder  had  taken  the  alarm 
in  season.  Occupied  with  Sarah,  neither  Miss  Singleton,  nor  the 
ladies  of  the  house,  had  discovered  the  entrance  of  the  Skinners, 
though  the  flames  were  raging  around  them  with  a fury  that  threat- 
ened the  building  with  rapid  destruction.  The  shrieks  of  Katy  and 
the  terrified  consort  of  Caesar,  together  with  the  noise  and  uproar  in 
the  adjacent  apartment,  first  roused  Miss  Peyton  and  Isabella  to  a 
sense  of  their  danger. 


302 


THE  S P Y. 


“ Merciful  Providence  !”  exclaimed  the  alarmed  aunt ; “ there  is 
a dreadful  confusion  in  the  house,  and  there  will  he  bloodshed  in 
consequence  of  this  affair.” 

“ There  are  none  to  fight,”  returned  Isabella,  with  a face  palei 
than  that  of  the  other;  “Dr.  Sitgreaves  is  very  peaceable  in  his 
disposition,  and  surely  Captain  Lawton  would  not  forget  himself 
so  far.” 

“ The  southern  temper  is  quick  and  fiery,”  continued  Miss  Pey- 
ton ; “ and  your  brother,  feeble  and  weak  as  he  is,  has  looked  the 
whole  afternoon  flushed  and  angry.” 

u Good  Heaven !”  cried  Isabella,  with  difficulty  supporting  her- 
self on  the  couch  of  Sarah ; “ he  is  gentle  as  the  lamb  by  nature, 
though  the  lion  is  not  his  equal  when  roused.” 

“ We  must  interfere  : our  presence  will  quell  the  tumult,  and  pos- 
sibly save  the  life  of  a fellow-creature.” 

Miss  Peyton,  excited  to  attempt  what  she  conceived  a duty  worthy 
of  her  sex  and  nature,  advanced  with  the  dignity  of  injured  female 
feeling,  to  the  door,  followed  by  Isabella.  The  apartment  to  which 
Sarah  had  been  conveyed  was  in  one  of  the  wings  of  the  building, 
and  it  communicated  with  the  principal  hall  of  the  cottage  by  a long 
and  dark  passage.  This  was  now  light,  and  across  its  termination 
several  figures  were  seen  rushing  with  an  impetuosity  that  prevented 
an  examination  of  their  employment. 

“ Let  us  advance,”  said  Miss  Peyfon,  with  a firmness  her  face 
belied : “ they  must  respect  our  sex.” 

“ They  shall,”  cried  Isabella,  taking  the  lead  in  the  enterprise. 
Frances  was  left  alone  with  her  sister.  A few  minutes  were  passed 
in  silence;  when  a loud  crash,  in  the  upper  apartments,  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a bright  light  that  glared  through  the  open  door,  and 
made  objects  as  distinct  to  the  eye  as  if  they  were  placed  under  a 
noon-day  sun.  Sarah  raised  herself  on  her  bed,  and  staring  wildly 
around,  pressed  both  her  hands  on  her  forehead,  endeavouring  to 
recollect  herself — 


THE  SPY. 


t‘$U3 


‘'  This,  then,  is  heaven  — and  you  are  one  of  its  bright  spirits. 
Oh  ! how  glorious  is  its  radiance  ! I had  thought  the  happiness  I 
have  lately  experienced  was  too  much  for  earth.  But  we  shall  meet 
again  — yes  — yes  — we  shall  meet  again.” 

“Sarah!  Sarah  I”  cried  Frances,  in  terror;  “my  sister  — my 
only  sister  — Oh  ! do  not  smile  so  horridly  : know  me,  or  you  will 
break  my  heart.” 

“ Hush,”  said  Sarah,  raising  her  hand  for  silence ; “ you  may 
disturb  his  rest  — surely,  he  will  follow  me  to  the  grave.  Think 
you  there  can  be  two  wives  in  the  grave  ? No  — no  — no  — one  — 
one  — one  — only  one.” 

Frances  dropped  her  head  into  the  lap  of  her  sister,  and  wept  in 
agony. 

“ Bo  you  shed  tears,  sweet  angel  ?”  continued  Sarah,  soothingly ; 
“then  heaven  is  not  exempt  from  grief.  But  where  is  Henry? 
Fie  was  executed,  and  he  must  be  here  too ; perhaps  they  will  come 
together.  Oh,  how  joyful  will  be  the  meeting  !” 

Frances  sprang  on  her  feet,  and  paced  the  apartment.  The  eye 
of  Sarah  followed  her  in  childish  admiration  of  her  beauty. 

“You  look  like  my  sister;  but  all  good  and  lovely  spirits  are 
alike.  Tell  me,  were  you  ever  married  ? Bid  you  ever  let  a stran- 
ger steal ' your  affections  from  father,  and  brother,  and  sister  ? If 
not,  poor  wretch,  I pity  you,  although  you  may  be  in  heaven.” 

“Sarah — peace,  peace  — I implore  you  to  be  silent,”  shrieked 
Frances,  rushing  to  her  bed,  “ or  you  will  kill  me  at  your 
feet.” 

Another  dreadful  crash  shook  the  building  to  its  centre.  It  was 
the  falling  of  the  roof,  and  the  flames  threw  their  light  abroad,  so 
as  to  make  objects  visible  around  the  cottage,  through  the  windows 
of  the  room.  Frances  flew  to  one  of  them,  and  saw  the  confused 
group  that  was  collected  on  the  lawn.  Among  them  were  her  aunt 
and  Isabella,  pointing  with  distraction  to  the  flery  edifice,  and  appa- 
rently urging  the  dragoons  to  enter  it.  For  the  first  time  she  com* 


304 


THE  SPY. 


prehended  their  danger ; and  uttering  a wild  shriek,  she  flew  through 
the  passage  without  consideration,  or  object. 

A dense  and  suffocating  column  of  smoke  opposed  her  progress. 
She  paused  to  breathe,  when  a man  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and 
bore  her,  in  a state  of  insensibility,  through  the  falling  embers  and 
darkness,  to  the  open  air.  The  instant  that  Frances  recovered  her 
recollection,  she  perceived  that  she  owed  her  life  to  Lawton,  and 
throwing  herself  on  her  knees,  she  cried  — 

“ Sarah  ! Sarah  ! Sarah  ! save  my  sister,  and  may  the  blessing  of 
God  await  you  l” 

Her  strength  failed,  and  she  sunk  on  the  grass,  in  insensibility. 
The  trooper  pointed  to  her  figure,  motioned  to  Katy  for  assistance, 
and  advanced  once  more  to  the  building.  The  fire  had  already  com- 
municated to  the  wood-work  of  the  piazzas  and  windows,  and  the 
whole  exterior  of  the  cottage  was  covered  with  smoke.  The  only 
entrance  was  through  these  dangers,  and  even  the  hardy  and  impetu- 
ous Lawton  paused  to  consider.  It  was  for  a moment  only,  when 
he  dashed  into  the  heat  and  darkness,  where,  missing  the  entrance, 
he  wandered  for  a minute,  and  precipitated  himself  back,  again,  upon 
the  lawn.  Drawing  a single  breath  of  pure  air,  he  renewed  the  ef- 
fort, and  was  again  unsuccessful.  On  a third  trial,  he  met  a man 
staggering  under  the  load  of  a human  body.  It  was  neither  the 
place,  nor  was  there  time,  to  question,  or  to  make  distinctions ; seiz- 
ing both  in  his  arms,  with  gigantic  strength,  he  bore  them  through 
the  smoke.  He  soon  perceived,  to  his  astonishment,  that  it  was  the 
surgeon,  and  the  body  of  one  of  the  Skinners,  that  he  had  saved. 

“ Archibald  he  exclaimed,  u why,  in  the  name  of  justice,  did 
you  bring  this  miscreant  to  light  again  ? His  deeds  are  rank  to 
heaven !” 

The  surgeon,  who  had  been  in  imminent  peril,  was  too  much  be- 
wildered to  reply  instantly,  but  wiping  the  moisture  from  his  fore- 
head, and  clearing  his  lungs  from  the  vapour  he  had  inhaled,  be 
said  piteously  — 


THE  SPY. 


no  5 


u Ah  ! it  is  all  over ! Had  I been  in  time  to  have  stopped  the 
effusion  from  the  jugular,  he  might  have  been  saved ; but  the  heat 
was  conducive  to  hemorrhage;  life  is  extinct  indeed.  Well,  are 
there  any  more  wounded?” 

His  question  was  put  to  the  air,  for  Frances  had  been  removed  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  building,  wThere  her  friends  were  collected, 
and  Lawton  once  more  had  disappeared  in  the  smoke. 

By  this  time  the  flames  had  dispersed  much  of  the  suffocating 
vapour,  so  that  the  trooper  was  able  to  find  the  door,  and  in  its  very 
entrance  he  was  met  by  a man  supporting  the  insensible  Sarah. 
There  was  but  barely  time  to  reach  the  lawn  again,  before  the  fire 
broke  through  the  windows,  and  wrapped  the  whole  building  in  a 
sheet  of  flame. 

“ God  be  praised  !”  ejaculated  the  preserver  of  Sarah ; “ it  would 
have  been  a dreadful  death  to  die.” 

The  trooper  turned  from  gazing  at  the  edifice,  to  the  speaker,  and 
to  his  astonishment,  instead  of  one  of  his  own  men,  he  beheld  the 
pedler. 

u Ha ! the  spy,”  he  exclaimed  : “ by  heavens,  you  cross  me  like 
a spectre.” 

u Captain  Lawton,”  said  Birch,  leaning  in  momentary  exhaustion 
against  the  fence,  to  which  they  had  retired  from  the  heat,  u I am 
again-  in  your  power,  for  I can  neither  flee,  nor  resist.” 

u The  cause  of  America  is  dear  to  me  as  life,”  said  the  trooper ; 
u but  she  cannot  require  her  children  to  forget  gratitude  and  honour. 
Fly,  unhappy  man,  while  yet  you  are  unseen,  or  it  will  exceed  my 
power  to  save  you.” 

u May  God  prosper  you,  and  make  you  victorious  over  your  ene- 
mies,” said  Birch,  grasping  the  hand  of  the  dragoon  with  an  iron 
strength  that  his  meagre  figure  did  not  indicate. 

u Hold  !”  said  Lawton ; “ but  a word  — are  you  what  you  seem  ? 
• — can  you  — are  }7ou — ” 


30G 


THE  SPY. 


“A  royal  spy,”  interrupted  Birch,  averting  his  face,  and  endea 
vouring  to  release  his  hand. 

“ Then  go,  miserable  wretch,”  said  the  trooper,  relinquishing  hi3 
grasp ; u either  avarice  or  delusion  has  led  a noble  heart  astray  !” 

The  bright  light  from  the  flames  reached  a great  distance  around 
the  ruins,  but  the  words  were  hardly  past  the  lips  of  Lawton,  before 
the  gaunt  form  of  the  pedler  had  glided  over  the  visible  space,  and 
plunged  into  the  darkness  beyond. 

The  eye  of  Lawton  rested  for  a moment  on  the  spot  where  he  had 
last  seen  this  inexplicable  man,  and  then  turning  to  the  yet  insen- 
sible Sarah,  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  and  bore  her,  like  a sleeping 
infant,  to  the  care  of  her  friends. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


- And  now  her  charms  are  fading  fast, 

Her  spirits  now  no  more  are  gay : 

Alas ! that  beauty  cannot  last ! 

That  flowers  so  sweet  so  soon  decay  i 
How  sad  appears 
The  vale  of  years, 

How  changed  from  youth’s  too  flattering  scene  i 
Where  are  her  fond  admirers  gone  ? 

Alas ! and  shall  there  then  be  none 
On  whom  her  soul  may  lean?” 

Cynthia’s  Grave. 

The  walls  of  the  cottage  were  all  that  was  left  of  the  building;  and 
these;  blackened  by  smoke,  and  stripped  of  their  piazzas  and  orna- 
ments, were  but  dreary  memorials  of  the  content  and  security  that 
had  so  lately  reigned  within.  The  roof,  together  with  the  rest  of 
the  wood-work,  had  tumbled  into  the  cellars,  and  a pale  and  hitting 
light,  ascending  from  their  embers,  shone  faintly  through  the  win- 
dows. The  early  flight  of  the  Skinners  left  the  dragoons  at  liberty 
to  exert  themselves  in  saving  much  of  the  furniture,  which  lay 
scattered  in  heaps  on  the  lawn,  giving  the  finishing  touch  of  desola- 
tion to  the  scene.  Whenever  a stronger  ray  of  light  than  common 
shot  upwards,  the  composed  figures  of  Sergeant  Hollister  and  his 
associates,  sitting  on  their  horses  in  rigid  discipline,  were  to  be  seen 
in  the  background  of  the  picture,  together  with  the  beast  of  Mrs. 
Flanagan,  which,  having  slipped  its  bridle,  was  quietly  grazing  by 
the  highway.  Betty  herself  had  advanced  to  the  spot  where  the 
Sergeant  was  posted,  and,  with  an  incredible  degree  of  composure, 
witnessed  the  whole  of  the  events  as  they  occurred.  More  than 


308 


THE  SPY. 


once  she  suggested  to  her  companion,  that,  as  the  fighting  seemed 
to  be  over,  the  proper  time  for  plunder  had  arrived ; but  the  veteran 
acquainted  her  with  his  orders,  and  remained  both  inflexible  and 
immoveable ; until  the  washerwoman,  observing  Lawton  come  round 
the  wing  of  the  building  with  Sarah,  ventured  amongst  the  warriors. 
The  Captain,  after  placing  Sarah  on  a sofa  that  had  been  hurled 
from  the  building  by  two  of  his  men,  retired,  that  the  ladies  might 
succeed  him  in  his  care.  Miss  Peyton  and  her  niece  flew,  with  a 
rapture  that  was  blessed  with  a momentary  forgetfulness  of  all  but 
her  preservation,  to  receive  Sarah  from  the  trooper;  but  the  vacant 
eye,  and  flushed  cheek,  restored  them  instantly  to  their  recollection. 

“ Sarah,  my  child,  my  beloved  niece,”  said  the  former,  folding 
the  unconscious  bride  in  her  arms,  “ you  are  saved,  and  may  the 
blessing  of  God  await  him  who  has  been  the  instrument.” 

“ See,”  said  Sarah,  gently  pushing  her  aunt  aside,  and  pointing 
to  the  glimmering  ruins,  “ the  windows  are  illuminated  in  honour 
of  my  arrival.  They  always  receive  a bride  thus  — he  told  me  they 
would  do  no  less;  listen,  and  you  will  hear  the  bells.” 

“ Here  is  no  bride,  no  rejoicing,  nothing  but  wo !”  cried  Frances, 
in  a manner  but  little  less  frantic  than  that  of  her  sister ; “ Oh ! 
may  Heaven  restore  you  to  us  — to  yourself!” 

“ Peace,  foolish  young  woman,”  said  Sarah,  with  a smile  of  af- 
fected pity ; “ all  cannot  be  happy  at  the  same  moment ; perhaps 
you  have  no  brother,  or  husband,  to  console  you ; you  look  beauti- 
ful, and  you  will  yet  find  one;  but,”  she  continued,  dropping  her 
voice  to  a whisper,  “ see  that  he  has  no  other  wife  — ’ tis  dreadful 
to  think  what  might  happen,  should  he  be  twice  married.” 

“ The  shock  has  destroyed  her  mind,”  cried  Miss  Peyton  : “ my 
child,  my  beauteous  Sarah  is  a maniac !” 

“No,  no,  no,”  cried  Frances,  “it  is  fever;  she  is  light-headed  — 
she  must  recover  — she  shall  recover.” 

The  aunt  caught  joyfully  at  the  hope  conveyed  in  this  suggestion, 
and  despatched  Katy  to  request  the  immediate  aid  and  advice  of 


THE  SPY. 


300 


Dr.  Sitgreaves.  The  surgeon  was  found  enquiring  among  the  men 
for  professional  employment,  and  inquisitively  examining  every 
bruise  and  scratch  that  he  could  induce  the  sturdy  warriors  to  ac- 
knowledge they  had  received.  A summons,  of  the  sort  conveyed 
by  Katy,  was  instantly  obeyed,  and  not  a minute  elapsed  before  he 
was  by  the  side  of  Miss  Peyton. 

“ This  is  a melancholy  termination  to  so  joyful  a commencement 
of  the  night,  madam,”  he  observed,  in  a soothing  manner ; “ but 
war  must  bring  its  attendant  miseries;  though  doubtless  it  often 
supports  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  improves  the  knowledge  of  surgi- 
cal science.” 

Miss  Peyton  could  make  no  reply,  but  pointed  to  her  niece,  in 
agony. 

“'Tis  fever,”  answered  Frances;  “see  how  glassy  is  her  eye,  and 
look  at  her  cheek,  how  flushed.” 

The  surgeon  stood  for  a moment,  deeply  studying  the  outward 
symptoms  of  his  patient,  and  then  he  silently  took  her  hand  in  his 
own.  It  was  seldom  that  the  hard  and  abstracted  features  of  Sit- 
greaves discovered  any  violent  emotion;  all  his  passions  seemed 
schooled,  and  his  countenance  did  not  often  betray  what,  indeed,  his 
heart  frequently  felt.  In  the  present  instance,  however,  the  eager 
gaze  of  the  aunt  and  sister  quickly  detected  his  emotions.  After 
laying  his  fingers  for  a minute  on  the  beautiful  arm,  which,  bared 
to  the  elbow,  and  glittering  with  jewels,  Sarah  suffered  him  to  retain, 
he  dropped  it,  and  dashing  a hand  over  his  eyes,  turned  sorrowfully 
away. 

“Here  is  no  fever  to  excite — ’t is  a case,  my  dear  madam,  for 
time  and  care  only;  these,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  may  effect  a 
cure.” 

“ And  where  is  the  wretch  who  has  caused  this  ruin  ?”  exclaimed 
Singleton,  rejecting  the  support  of  his  man,  and  making  an  effort  to 
rise  from  the  chair,  to  which  he  had  been  driven  by  debility.  “ It 


310 


THE  SPY. 


is  in  vain  that  we  overcome  our  enemies,  if,  conquered,  they  can 
inflict  such  wounds  as  this.” 

“Dost  think,  foolish  boy,”  said  Lawton,  with  a bitter  smile, 
“ that  hearts  can  feel  in  a colony  ? What  is  America  but  a satellite 
of  England  — to  move  as  she  moves,  follow  where  she  wists,  and 
shine,  that  the  mother  country  may  become  more  splendid  by  her 
radiance  ? Surely  you  forget  that  it  is  honour  enough  for  a colonist 
to  receive  ruin  from  the  hand  of  a child  of  Britain.” 

“ I forget  not  that  I wear  a sword,”  said  Singleton,  falling  back 
exhausted;  “but  was  there  no  willing  arm  ready  to  avenge  that 
lovely  sufferer  — to  appease  the  wrongs  of  this  hoary  father  ?” 

“ Neither  arms,  nor  hearts  are  wanting,  sir,  in  such  a cause ;” 
bustling  up  to  his  side ; “ but  chance  oftentimes  helps  the  wicked. 
By  heavens  I ’d  give  Eoanoke  himself,  for  a clear  field  with  the 
miscreant !” 

“ Nay  ! captain  dear,  no  be  parting  with  the  horse,  any  way,”  said 
Betty ; “ it  is  no  trifle  that  can  be  had  by  jist  asking  of  the  right 
person,  if  yee  ’re  in  need  of  silver,  and  the  baste  is  sure  of  foot,  and 
jumps  like  a squirrel.” 

“Woman,  fifty  horses,  ay,  the  best  that  were  ever  reared  on  the 
banks  of  the  Potomac,  would  be  but  a paltry  price,  for  one  blow  at 
a villain.” 

“ Come,”  said  the  surgeon,  “ the  night  air  can  do  no  service  to 
George,  or  these  ladies,  and  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  remove  them 
where  they  can  find  surgical  attendance  and  refreshment.  Here  is 
nothing  but  smoking  ruins  and  the  miasma  of  the  swamps.” 

To  this  rational  proposition  no  objection  could  be  raised,  and  the 
necessary  orders  were  issued  by  Lawton  to  remove  the  whole  party 
to  the  Four  Corners. 

America  furnished  but  few  and  very  indifferent  carriage-makers  at 
the  period  of  which  we  write,  and  every  vehicle,  that  in  the  least 
aspired  to  that  dignity,  was  the  manufacture  of  a London  mechanic. 
When  Mr.  Wharton  left  the  city,  he  was  one  of  the  very  few  who 


THE  SPY. 


311 


maintained  the  state  of  a carriage;  and,  at  the  time  Miss  Peyton 
and  his  daughters  joined  him  in  his  retirement,  they  had  been  con- 
veyed to  the  cottage  in  the  heavy  chariot  that  had  once  so  imposingly 
roi  led  through  the  windings  of  Queen  Street,  or  emerged,  with  som- 
bre dignity,  into  the  more  spacious  drive  of  Broadway.  This  vehicle 
stood,  undisturbed, ’where  it  had  been  placed  on  its  arrival,  and  the 
age  of  the  horses  alone  had  protected  the  favourites  of  Caesar  from 
sequestration  by  the  contending  forces  in  their  neighbourhood.  With 
a heavy  heart,  the  black,  assisted  by  a few  of  the  dragoons,  proceeded 
to  prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  the  ladies.  It  was  a cumbrous 
vehicle,  whose  faded  linings  and  tarnished  hammercloth,  together 
with  its  panels  of  changing  colour,  denoted  the  want  of  that  art 
which  had  once  given  it  lustre  and  beauty.  The  “ lion  couchant” 
of  the  Wha^on  ^arms  was  reposing  on  the  reviving  splendour  of  a 
blazonry  that  told  the  armorial  bearings  of  a prince  of  the  church ; 
and  the  mitre,  that  already  began  to  shine  through  its  American 
mask,  was  a symbol  of  the  rank  of  its  original  owner.  The  chaise 
which  conveyed  Miss  Singleton  was  also  safe,  for  the  stable  and  out- 
buildings had  entirely  escaped  the  flames  : it  certainly  had  been  no 
part  of  the  plan  of  the  marauders  to  leave  so  well-appointed  a stud 
behind  them,  but  the  suddenness  of  the  attack  by  Lawton,  not  only 
disconcerted  their  arrangements  on  this  point,  but  on  many  others 
also.  A guard  was  left  on  the  ground,  under  the  command  of  Hol- 
lister, wdio,  having  discovered  that  his  enemy  was  of  mortal  mould, 
took  his  position  with  admirable  coolness,  and  no  little  skill,  to  guard 
against  surprise.  He  drew  off  his  small  party  to  such  a distance 
from  the  ruins,  that  it  was  effectually  concealed  in  the  darkness, 
while  at  the  same  time  the  light  continued  sufficiently  powerful  to 
discover  any  one  who  might  approach  the  lawn  with  an  intent  to 
plunder. 

Satisfied  with  this  judicious  arrangement,  Captain  Lawton  made 
his  dispositions  for  the  march.  Miss  Peyton,  her  two  nieces,  and 
Isabella,  were  placed  in  the  chariot,  while  the  cart  of  Mrs.  Flanagan. 


312 


THE  SPY. 


amply  supplied  with  blankets  and  a bed,  was  honoured  with  the 
person  of  Captain  Singleton.  Dr.  Sitgreaves  took  charge  of  the 
chaise  and  Mr.  Wharton.  What  became  of  the  rest  of  the  family, 
during  that  eventful  night,  is  unknown : for  Caesar  alone,  of  the 
domestics,  was  to  be  found,  if  we  except  the  housekeeper.  Having 
disposed  of  the  whole  party  in  this  manner,  Lawton  gave  the  word 
to  march.  He  remained  himself,  for  a few  minutes,  alone,  on  the 
lawn,  secreting  various  pieces  of  plate  and  other  valuables,  that  he 
was  fearful  might  tempt  the  cupidity  of  his  own  men ; when,  per- 
ceiving nothing  more  that  he  conceived  likely  to  overcome  their 
honesty,  he  threw  himself  into  the  saddle  with  the  soldierly  inten- 
tion of  bringing  up  the  rear. 

a Stop,  stop,”  cried  a female  voice  : u will  you  leave  me  alone  to 
be  murdered  ? the  spoon  is  melted,  I believe,  and  I '11  have  compen- 
sation, if  there 's  law  or  justice  in  this  unhappy  land.” 

Lawton  turned  an  eye  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and  perceived 
a female  emerging  from  the  ruins,  loaded  with  a bundle,  that  vied  in 
size  with  the  renowned  pack  of  the  pedler. 

“ Who  have  we  here,”  said  the  trooper,  “ rising  like  a phoenix 
from  the  flames.  Oh  ! by  the  soul  of  Hippocrates,  but  it  is  the 
identical  she-doctor,  of  famous  needle  reputation.  Well,  good  woman, 
what  means  this  outcry?” 

u Outcry  !”  echoed  Katy,  panting  for  breath ; “ is  it  not  dispar- 
agement enough  to  lose  a silver  spoon,  but  I must  be  left  alone  in 
this  lonesome  place,  to  be  robbed,  and  perhaps  murdered  ? Harvey 
would  not  serve  me  so : when  I lived  with  Harvey,  I was  always 
treated  with  respect,  at  least,  if  he  was  a little  close  with  his  secrets, 
and  wasteful  of  his  money.” 

u Then,  madam,  you  once  formed  part  of  the  household  of  Mr. 
Harvey  Birch?” 

“ You  may  say  I was  the  whole  of  his  household,”  returned  the 
other ; “ there  was  nobody  but  I,  and  he,  and  the  old  gentleman ; 
you  didn’t  know  the  old  gentleman,  perhaps?” 


THE  SPY. 


313 


“ That  happiness  was  denied  me : how  long  did  you  live  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  Birch  ?” 

“ I disremember  the  precise  time,  but  it  must  have  been  hard  on 
upon  nine  years  : and  what  better  am  I for  it  all  ?” 

“ Sure  enough ; I can  see  but  little  benefit  that  you  have  derived 
from  the  association,  truly.  But  is  there  not  something  unusual  in 
the  movements  and  character  of  this  Mr.  Birch  ?” 

“ Unusual  is  an  easy  word  for  such  unaccoun tables !”  replied 
Katy,  lowering  her  voice,  and  looking  around  her;  “he  was  a 
wonderful  disregardful  man,  and  minded  a guinea  no  more  than  I do 
a kernel  of  corn.  But  help  me  to  some  way  of  joining  Miss 
Jinitt,  and  I will  tell  you  prodigies  of  what  Harvey  has  done,  first 
and  last.” 

“You  will!”  exclaimed  the  trooper,  musing;  “here,  give  me 
leave  to  feel  your  arm  above  the  elbow.  There  — you  are  not  defi- 
cient in  bone,  let  the  blood  be  as  it  may.”  So  saying,  he  gave  the 
spinster  a sudden  whirl,  that  effectually  confused  all  her  faculties, 
until  she  found  herself  safely,  if  not  comfortably,  seated  on  the 
crupper  of  Lawton’s  steed. 

“ Now,  madam,  you  have  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  you  are 
as  well  mounted  as  Washington.  The  nag  is  sure  of  foot,  and  will 
leap  like  a panther.” 

“Let  me  get  down,”  cried  Katy,  struggling  to  release  herself 
from  his  iron  grasp,  and  yet  afraid  of  falling ; “ this  is  no 

way  to  put  a woman  on  a horse;  besides,  I can’t  ride  without 
a pillion.” 

“ Softly,  good  madam,”  said  Lawton ; “ for  although  Boanoke 
never  falls  before,  he  sometimes  rises  behind.  He  is  far  from  being 
accustomed  to  a pair  of  heels  beating  upon  his  flanks  like  a drum- 
major  on  a field  day;  a single  touch  of  the  spur  will  serve  him  for 
a fortnight,  and  it  is  by  no  means  wise  to  be  kicking  in  this  manner, 
for  he  is  a horse  that  but  little  likes  to  be  outdone.” 

“Let  me  down,  I say,”  screamed  Katy;  “I  shall  fall  and  be 

14 


314 


THE  SPY. 


killed.  Besides,  I have  nothing  to  hold  on  with;  my  arms  are  full 
of  valuables.” 

“True,”  returned  the  trooper,  observing  that  he  had  brought 
bundle  and  all  from  the  ground ; “I  perceive  that  you  belong  to 
the  baggage-guard ; but  my  sword-belt  will  encircle  your  little  waist, 
as  well  as  my  own.” 

Katy  was  too  much  pleased  with  this  compliment  to  make  any 
resistance,  while  he  buckled  her  close  to  his  own  herculean  frame, 
and,  driving  a spur  into  his  charger,  they  flew  from  the  lawn  with  a 
rapidity  that  defied  further  denial.  After  proceeding  for  some  time, 
at  a rate  that  a good  deal  discomposed  the  spinster,  they  overtook  the 
cart  of  the  washerwoman  driving  slowly  over  the  stones,  with  a proper 
consideration  for  the  wounds  of  Captain  Singleton.  The  occurrences 
of  that  eventful  night  had  produced  an  excitement  in  the  young 
soldier,  that  was  followed  by  the  ordinary  lassitude  of  reaction,  and 
he  lay  carefully  enveloped  in  blankets,  and  supported  by  his  man, 
but  little  able  to  converse,  though  deeply  brooding  over  the  past. 
The  dialogue  between  Lawton  and  his  companion  ceased  with  the 
commencement  of  their  motions,  but  a foot-pace  being  more  favour- 
able to  speech,  the  trooper  began  anew  — 

“ Then,  you  have  been  an  inmate  in  the  same  house  with  Harvey 
Birch?” 

“ For  more  than  nine  years,”  said  Katy,  drawing  her  breath,  ami 
rejoicing  greatly  that  their  speed  was  abated. 

The  deep  tones  of  the  trooper’s  voice  were  no  sooner  conveyed  to 
the  ears  of  the  washerwoman,  than,  turning  her  head,  where  she  sat 
directing  the  movements  of  the  mare,  she  put  into  the  discourse  at 
the  first  pause  — 

“ Belike,  then,  good  woman,  yee’r  knowing  whether  or  no  he ’s 
akin  to  Beelzeboob,”  said  Betty;  “it’s  Sargeant  Hollister  who 's 
saying  the  same,  and  no  fool  is  the  Sargeant,  any  way.” 

“It’s  a scandalous  disparagement,”  cried  Katy,  vehemently, 
“ no  kinder  soul  than  Harvey  carries  a pack ; and  for  a gownd  or  a 


T HE  SPY. 


315 


tidy  apron,  he  will  never  take  a king's  farthing  from  a friend.  Beel- 
zebub, indeed  ! For  what  would  he  read  the  Bible,  if  he  had  deal- 
ings with  the  evil  spirit?" 

“ He 's  an  honest  divil,  any  way;  as  I was  saying  before,  the 
guinea  was  pure.  But  then  the  Sargeant  thinks  him  amiss,  and  it ’s 
no  want  of  laming  that  Mister  Hollister  has." 

u He ’s  a fool !"  said  Katy,  tartly;  u Harvey  might  be  a man  of 
substance,  were  he  not  so  disregardful.  How  often  have  I told  him, 
that  if  he  did  nothing  but  peddle,  and  would  put  his  gains  to  use, 
and  get  married,  so  that  things  at  home  could  be  kept  within  doors, 
and  leave  off  his  dealings  with  the  rig’lars,  and  all  incumberments, 
that  he  would  soon  become  an  excellent  liver.  Sargeant  Hollister 
would  be  glad  to  hold  a candle  to  him,  indeed !" 

u Pooh  !"  said  Betty,  in  her  philosophical  way ; u yee’r  no  think- 
ing that  Mister  Hollister  is  an  officer,  and  stands  next  the  cornet,  in 
the  troop.  But  this  pidler  gave  warning  of  the  brush  the  night, 
and  it's  no  sure  that  Captain  Jack  would  have  got  the  day,  but  for 
the  reinforcement." 

u How  say  you,  Betty,"  cried  the  trooper,  bending  forward  on  his 
saddle,  u had  you  notice  of  our  danger  from  Birch  ?" 

u The  very  same,  darling ; and  it 's  hurry  I was  till  the  boys  was 
in  motion ; not  but  I knew  yee'r  enough  for  the  Cow-Boys  any  time. 
But  wid  the  divil  on  your  side,  I was  sure  of  the  day.  I 'm  only 
wondering  there 's  so  little  plunder,  in  a business  of  Beelzeboob’s 
contriving." 

::  I 'm  obliged  to  you  for  the  rescue,  and  equally  indebted  to  the 
motive." 

“ Is  it  the  plunder  ? But  little  did  I tink  of  it  till  I saw  the 
moveables  on  the  ground,  some  burnt,  and  some  broke,  and  other 
some  as  good  as  new.  It  would  be  convanient  to  have  one  feather- 
bed in  the  corps,  any  way." 

u By  heavens,  ’t  was  timely  succour ! Had  not  Boanoke  been 


310 


THE  SPY. 


swifter  than  their  bullets,  I must  have  fallen.  The  animal  is  worth 
his  weight  in  gold.” 

“ It 's  continental,  you  mane,  darling.  Groold  weighs  heavy,  and 
is  no  plenty  in  the  states.  If  the  nagur  had  n't  been  staying  and 
frighting  the  Sargeant  with  his  copper-coloured  looks,  and  a matter 
of  blarney  'bout  ghosts,  we  should  have  been  in  time  to  have  killed 
all  the  dogs,  and  taken  the  rest  prisoners.” 

“ It  is  very  well  as  it  is,  Betty,”  said  Lawton ; “ a day  will  yet 
come,  I trust,  when  these  miscreants  shall  be  rewarded,  if  not  in 
judgments  upon  their  persons,  at  least  in  the  opinions  of  their  fel- 
low-citizens. The  time  must  arrive  when  America  will  learn  to  dis- 
tinguish between  a patriot  and  a robber.” 

“ Speak  low,”  said  Katy ; “ there 's  some  who  think  much  of 
themselves,  that  have  doings  with  the  Skinners.” 

“It's  more  they  are  thinking  of  themselves,  then,  than  other 
people  thinks  of  them,”  cried  Betty;  “a  tief's  a tief,  any  way; 
whether  he  stales  for  King  George  or  for  Congress.” 

“•I  know’d  that  evil  would  soon  happen,”  said  Katy;  “the  sun 
set  to-night  behind  a black  cloud,  and  the  house-dog  whined,  although 
I gave  him  his  supper  with  my  own  hands ; besides,  it 's  not  a week 
sin'  I dreamed  the  dream  about  the  thousand  lighted  candles,  and 
the  cakes  being  burnt  in  the  oven.” 

“ Well,”  said  Betty,  “ it's  but  little  I drame,  any  way.  Jist  keep 
an  asy  conscience  and  a plenty  of  the  stuff  in  yee,  and  ye  '11  sleep 
like  an  infant.  The  last  drame  I had  was  when  the  boys  put  the 
thistle-tops  in  the  blankets,  and  then  I was  thinking  that  Captain 
Jack's  man  was  currying  me  down,  for  the  matter  of  Boanoke ; but 
it 's  no  trifle  I mind  either  in  skin  or  stomach.” 

“I'm  sure,”  said  Katy,  with  a stiff  erection  that  drew  Lawton 
back  in  his  saddle,  “ no  man  shall  ever  dare  to  lay  hands  on  bed  of 
mine ; it 's  undecent  and  despisable  conduct.” 

“ Pooh  ! pooh  !”  cried  Betty ; “ if  you  tag  after  a troop  of  horse, 
i small  bit  of  a joke  must  be  borne  : what  would  become  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


317 


states  and  liberty,  if  the  boys  had  never  a clane  shirt,  or  a drop  to 
comfort  them?  Ask  Captain  Jack,  there,  if  they’d  fight,  Mrs. 
Beelzeboob,  and  they  no  clane  linen  to  keep  the  victory  in.” 

“I’m  a single  woman,  and  my  name  is  Haynes,”  said  Katy, 
“and  I’d  thank  you  to  use  no  disparaging  terms  when  speaking 
to  me.” 

“ You  must  tolerate  a little  license  in  the  tongue  of  Mrs.  Flana- 
gan, madam,”  said  the  trooper ; “ the  drop  she  speaks  of  is  often  of 
an  extraordinary  size,  and  then  she  has  acquired  the  freedom  of  a 
soldier’s  manner. 

“ Pooh  ! Captain,  darling,”  cried  Betty,  “ why  do  you  bother  the 
woman  ? talk  like  yeerself,  dear,  and  it ’s  no  fool  of  a tongue  that 
yee  ’ve  got  in  yeer  own  head.  But  it ’s  here  away  that  the  Sar- 
geant  made  a halt,  thinking  tjiere  might  be  more  divils  than  one 
stirring,  the  night.  The  clouds  are  as  black  as  Arnold’s  heart,  and 
deuce  the  star  is  there  twinkling  among  them.  Well,  the  mare  is 
used  to  a march  after  nightfall,  and  is  smelling  out  the  road  like  a 
pointer  slut.” 

“ It  wants  but  little  to  the  rising  moon,”  observed  the  trooper. 
He  called  a dragoon,  who  was  riding  in  advance,  issued  a few  orders 
and  cautions  relative  to  the  comfort  and  safety  of  Singleton,  and 
speaking  a consoling  word  to  his  friend  himself,  gave  Boanoke  the 
spur,  and  dashed  by  the  cart,  at  a rate  that  again  put  to  flight  all 
the  philosophy  of  Catharine  Haynes. 

“ Hood  luck  to  yee,  for  a free  rider  and  a bold !”  shouted  the 
washerwoman,  as  he  passed ; “ if  yee  ’re  meeting  Mister  Beelzeboob, 
jist  back  the  baste  up  to  him,  and  show  him  his  consort  that  yee ’ve 
got  on  the  crupper.  I’m  thinking  it’s  no  long  he’d  tarry  to  chat. 
Well,  well,  it’s  his  life  that  we  saved,  he  was  saying  so  himself — 
though  the  plunder  is  nothing  to  signify.” 

The  cries  of  Betty  Flanagan  were  too  familiar  to  the  ears  of  Cap- 
tain Lawton  to  elicit  a reply.  Notwithstanding  the  unusual  burden 
that  Boanoke  sustained,  he  got  over  the  ground  with  great  rapidity, 


318 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


and  the  distance  between  the  cart  of  Mrs.  Flanagan  and  the  chariot 
of  Miss  Peyton  was  passed  in  a manner  that,  however  it  answered 
the  intentions  of  the  trooper,  in  no  degree  contributed  to  the  comfort 
of  his  companion.  The  meeting  occurred  but  a short  distance  from 
the  quarters  of  Lawton,  and  at  the  same  instant  the  moon  broke 
from  behind  a mass  of  clouds,  and  threw  its  light  upon  objects. 

Compared  with  the  simple  elegance  and  substantial  comfort  of  the 
Locusts,  the  “ Hotel  Flanagan”  presented  but  a dreary  spectacle. 
In  the  place  of  carpeted  floors  and  curtained  windows,'  were  the 
yawning  cracks  of  a rudely-constructed  dwelling,  and  boards  and 
paper  were  ingeniously  applied  to  supply  the  place  of  the  green 
glass  in  more  than  half  the  lights.  The  care  of  Lawton  had  antici- 
pated every  improvement  that  their  situation  would  allow,  and 
blazing  fires  were  made  before  the  party  arrived.  The  dragoons, 
who  had  been  charged  with  this  duty,  had  conveyed  a few  necessary 
articles  of  furniture,  and  Miss  Peyton  and  her  companions,  on  alight- 
ing, found  something  like  habitable  apartments  prepared  for  their 
reception.  The  mind  of  Sarah  had  continued  to  wander  during  the 
ride,  and,  with  the  ingenuity  of  the  insane,  she  accommodated 
every  circumstance  to  the  feelings  that  were  uppermost  in  her  own 
bosom. 

u It  is  impossible  to  minister  to  a mind  that  has  sustained  such  a 
blow,”  said  Lawton  to  Isabella  Singleton ; u time  and  God’s  mercy 
can  alone  cure  it ; but  something  more  may  be  done  towards  the 
bodily  comfort  of  all.  You  are  a soldier’s  daughter,  and  used  to 
scenes  like  this ; help  me  to  exclude  some  of  the  cold  air  from  these 
windows.” 

Miss  Singleton  acceded  to  his  request,  and  while  Lawton  was  en- 
deavouring, from  without,  to  remedy  the  defect  of  broken  panes, 
Isabella  was  arranging  a substitute  for  a curtain  within. 

“ I hear  the  cart,”  said  the  trooper,  in  reply  to  one  of  her  inter- 
rogatories. “ Betty  is  tender-hearted  in  the  main ; believe  me,  poor 
George  will  not  only  be  safe,  but  comfortable.” 


T HE  SPY. 


319 


u God  bless  her,  for  her  care,  and  bless  you  all,”  said  Isabella, 
fervently.  “ Dr.  Sitgreaves  has  gone  down  the  road  to  meet  him,  I 
know  — what  is  that  glittering  in  the  moon?” 

Directly  opposite  the  window  where  they  stood,  were  the  out- 
buildings of  the  farm,  and  the  quick  eye  of  Lawton  caught  at  a 
glance  the  object  to  which  she  alluded. 

“ ’T  is  the  glare  of  fire-arms,”  said  the  trooper,  springing  from  the 
window  towards  his  charger,  which  yet  remained  caparisoned  at  the 
door.  His  movement  was  quick  as  thought,  but  a flash  of  fire  was 
followed  by  the  whistling  of  a bullet,  before  he  had  proceeded  a step. 
A loud  shriek  burst  from  the  dwelling,  and  the  Captain  sprang  into 
his  saddle : the  whole  was  the  business  of  but  a moment. 

u Mount  — mount,  and  follow!”  shouted  the  trooper;  and  before 
his  astonished  men  could  understand  the  cause  of  alarm,  Roanoke 
had  carried  him  in  safety  over  the  fence  which  lay  between  him  and 
his  foe.  The  chase  was  for  life  or  death,  but  the  distance  to  the 
rocks  was  again  too  short,  and  the  disappointed  trooper  saw  his  in 
tended  victim  vanish  in  their  clefts,  where  he  could  not  follow. 

“ By  the  life  of  Washington,”  muttered  Lawton,  as  he  sheathed 
his  sabre,  u I would  have  made  two  halves  of  him,  had  he  not  been 
so  nimble  on  the  foot  — but  a time  will  come  1”  So  saying,  he  re- 
turned to  his  quarters,  with  the  indifference  of  a man  who  knew  his 
life  was  at  any  moment  to  be  offered  a sacrifice  to  his  country.  An 
extraordinary  tumult  in  the  house  induced  him  to  quicken  his  speed, 
and  on  arriving  at  the  door,  the  panic-stricken  Katy  informed  him 
that  the  bullet,  aimed  at  his  own  life,  had  taken  effect  in  the  bosom 
of  Miss  Singleton. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Hush’d  were  his  Gertrude’s  lips  ! but  still  their  bland 
And  beautiful  expression  seem’d  to  melt 
With  love  that  could  not  die  ! and  still  his  hand 
She  presses  to  the  heart  no  more  that  felt. 

Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

The  brief  arrangements  of  the  dragoons  had  prepared  two  apartments 
for  the  reception  of  the  ladies,  the  one  being  intended  as  a sleeping 
room,  and  situated  within  the  other.  Into  the  latter  Isabella  was 
immediately  conveyed,  at  her  own  request,  and  placed  on  a rude  bed 
by  the  side  of  the  unconscious  Sarah.  When  Miss  Peyton  and 
Frances  flew  to  her  assistance,  they  found  her  with  a smile  on  her 
pallid  lip,  and  a composure  in  her  countenance,  that  induced  them 
to  think  her  uninjured. 

“ God  be  praised  !”  exclaimed  the  trembling  aunt ; “ the  report 
of  fire-arms,  and  your  fall,  had  led  me  into  an  error.  Surely,  surely, 
there  was  enough  of  horror  before ; but  this  has  been  spared  us.” 
Isabella  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  bosom,  still  smiling,  but  with 
a ghastliness  that  curdled  the  blood  of  Frances, — 

“ Is  George  far  distant  ?”  she  asked,  “ let  him  know  — hasten 
him,  that  I may  see  my  brother,  once  again.” 

“ It  is  as  I apprehended !”  shrieked  Miss  Peyton ; “ but  you 
smile  — surely  you  are  not  hurt !” 

“ Quite  well  — quite  happy,”  murmured  Isabella;  “here  is  a 
remedy  for  every  pain.” 

Sarah  arose  from  the  reclining  posture  she  had  taken,  and  gazed 


THE  SPY. 


321 


wildly  at  her  companion.  She  stretched  forth  her  own  hand,  and 
raised  that  of  Isabella  from  her  bosom.  It  was  dyed  in  blood. 

“ See/'  said  Sarah,  “ but  will  it  not  wash  away  love  ? Marry, 
young  woman,  and  then  no  one  can  expel  him  from  your  heart,  un- 
less"— she  added,  whispering,  and  bending  over  the  other,  — “you 
find  another  there  before  you ; then  die,  and  go  to  heaven  — there 
are  no  wives  in  heaven." 

The  lovely  maniac  hid  her  face  under  the  clothes,  and  continued 
silent  during  the  remainder  of  the  night.  At  this  moment  Lawton 
entered.  Inured  as  he  was  to  danger  in  all  its  forms,  and  accus- 
tomed to  the  horrors  of  a partisan  war,  the  trooper  could  not  behold 
the  ruin  before  him,  unmoved.  He  bent  over  the  fragile  form  of 
Isabella,  and  his  gloomy  eye  betrayed  the  workings  of  his  soul. 

“ Isabella,"  he  at  length  uttered,  “ I know  you  to  possess  a courage 
beyond  the  strength  of  women." 

“ Speak,"  she  said,  earnestly ; “ if  you  have  any  thing  to  say, 
speak  fearlessly." 

The  trooper  averted  his  face  as  he  replied  — “None  ever  receive 
a ball  there,  and  survive." 

“I  have  no  dread  of  death,  Lawton,"  returned  Isabella  — “I 
thank  you  for  not  doubting  me ; I felt  it,  from  the  first." 

“ These  are  not  scenes  for  a form  like  yours,"  added  the 
trooper : “ 't  is  enough  that  Britain  calls  our  youth  to  the  field ; 
but  when  such  loveliness  becomes  the  victim  of  war,  I sicken  of  my 
trade." 

“ Hear  me,  Captain  Lawton,"  said  Isabella,  raising  herself  with 
difficulty,  but  rejecting  aid  : “ from  early  womanhood  to  the  present 
hour  have  I been  an  inmate  of  camps  and  garrisons.  I have  lived 
to  cheer  the  leisure  of  an  aged  father,  and  think  you  I would  change 
those  days  of  danger  and  privation  for  any  ease  ? No  ! I have  the 
consolation  of  knowing,  in  my  dying  moments,  that  what  woman 
could  do  in  such  a cause,  I have  done." 

“ Who  could  prove  a recreant,  and  witness  such  a spirit ! Hun- 
U* 


322 


T H i2  SPY. 


dreds  of  warriors  have  I witnessed  in  their  blood,  but  never  a firmer 
soul  among  them  all.” 

“’Tis  the  soul  only,”  said  Isabella;  “my  sex  and  strength  have 
denied  me  the  dearest  of  privileges.  But  to  you,  Captain  Lawton, 
nature  has  been  more  bountiful : you  have  an  arm  and  a heart  to 
devote  to  the  cause ; and  I know  they  are  an  arm  and  a heart  that 
will  prove  true  to  the  last.  And  George  — and  — ■”  she  paused,  her 
lip  quivered,  and  her  eye  sunk  to  the  floor. 

“And  Dunwoodie !”  added  the  trooper ; “ would  you  speak  of 
Dunwoodie  V 

“ Name  him  not,”  said  Isabella,  sinking  back,  and  concealing  her 
face  in  her  garments : “ leave  me,  Lawton  — prepare  poor  George 
for  this  unexpected  blow.” 

The  trooper  continued  for  a little  while  gazing,  in  melancholy 
interest,  at  the  convulsive  shudderings  of  her  frame,  which  the  scanty 
covering  could  not  conceal,  and  withdrew  to  meet  his  comrade.  The 
interview  between  Singleton  and  his  sister  was  painful,  and,  for  a 
moment,  Isabella  yielded  to  a burst  of  tenderness ; but,  as  if  aware 
that  her  hours  were  numbered,  she  was  the  first  to  rouse  herself  to 
exertion.  At  her  earnest  request,  the  room  was  left  to  herself,  the 
Captain,  and  Frances.  The  repeated  applications  of  the  surgeon,  to 
be  permitted  to  use  professional  aid,  were  steadily  rejected,  and,  at 
length,  he  was  obliged  unwillingly  to  retire. 

“Baise  me,”  said  the  dying  young  woman,  “and  let  me  look  on 
a face  that  I love,  once  more.”  Frances  silently  complied,  and  Isa- 
bella turned  her  eyes  in  sisterly  affection  upon  George  — “ It  mat- 
ters but  little,  my  brother;  — a few  hours  must  close  the  scene.” 

“ Live,  Isabella,  my  sister,  my  only  sister  !”  cried  the  youth,  with 
a burst  of  sorrow  that  he  could  not  control ; “ my  father ! my  poor 
father  — ” 

“ There  is  the  sting  of  death ; but  he  is  a soldier  and  a Christian. 
Miss  Wharton,  I would  speak  of  what  interests  you,  while  yet  I 
lave  strength  for  the  task.” 


T H E SPY. 


323 


a Nay/’  said  Frances,  tenderly,  “ compose  yourself;  let  no  desire 
to  oblige  me  endanger  a life  that  is  precious  to  — to  — so  many,” 
The  words  were  nearly  stifled  by  her  emotions,  for  the  other  had 
touched  a chord  that  thrilled  to  her  heart. 

“ Poor,  sensitive  girl !”  said  Isabella,  regarding  her  with  tender 
interest;  “but  the  world  is  still  before  you,  and  why  should  I dis- 
turb the  little  happiness  it  may  afford  ! Dream  on,  lovely  innocent ! 
and  may  God  keep  the  evil  day  of  knowledge  far  distant !” 

“ Oh,  there  is  even  now  little  left  for  me  to  enjoy/’  said  Frances, 
burying  her  face  in  the  clothes ; “ I am  heart-stricken,  in  all  that  I 
most  loved.” 

“ No!”  interrupted  Isabella;  “you  have  one  inducement  to  wish 
for  life,  that  pleads  strongly  in  a woman’s  breast.  It  is  a delusion 
that  nothing  but  death  can  destroy  — ” Exhaustion  compelled  her 

to  pause,  and  her  auditors  continued  in  breathless  suspense,  until, 
recovering  her  strength,  she  laid  her  hand  on  that  of  Frances,  and 
continued  more  mildly  — “ Miss  Wharton,  if  there  breathes  a spirit 
congenial  to  Dunwoodie’s,  and  worthy  of  his  love,  it  is  your 
own.” 

A flush  of  fire  passed  over  the  face  of  the  listener,  and  she  raised 
her  eyes,  flashing  with  an  ungovernable  look  of  delight,  to  the  coun 
tenance  of  Isabella ; but  the  ruin  she  beheld  recalled  better  feelings, 
and  again  her  head  dropped  upon  the  covering  of  the  bed.  Isabella 
watched  her  emotion  with  a look  that  partook  both  of  pity  and  admi- 
ration. 

“ Such  have  been  the  feelings  that  I have  escaped,”  she  con- 
tinued ; “ yes,  Miss  Wharton,  Dunwoodie  is  wholly  yours.” 

“ Be  just  to  yourself,  my  sister,”  exclaimed  the  youth ; “ let  no 
romantic  generosity  cause  you  to  forget  your  own  character.” 

She  heard  him,  and  fixed  a gaze  of  tender  interest  on  his  face,  but 
slowiy  shook  her  head  as  she  replied  — 

“ It  is  not  romance,  but  truth,  that  bids  me  speak.  Oh ! how 
much  have  I lived  within  an  hour!  Miss  Wharton,  I was  born 


824 


THE  SPY. 


under  a burning  sun,  and  my  feelings  seem  to  have  imbibed  its 
warmth;  I have  existed  for  passion,  only.” 

“ Say  not  so  — say  not  so,  I implore  you,”  cried  the  agitated 
brother;  “ think  how  devoted  has  been  your  love  to  our  aged  father; 
how  disinterested,  how  tender,  your  affection  to  me !” 

“ Yes,”  said  Isabella,  a smile  of  mild  pleasure  beaming  on  her 
countenance ; “ that,  at  least,  is  a reflection  which  may  be  taken  to 
the  grave.” 

Neither  Frances  nor  her  brother  interrupted  her  meditations, 
which  continued  for  several  minutes;  when,  suddenly  recollecting 
herself,  she  continued  — 

“I  remain  selfish  even  to  the  last;  with  me,  Miss  Wharton, 
America  and  her  liberties  was  my  earliest  passion,  and — ” again 
she  paused,  and  Frances  thought  it  was  the  struggle  of  death  that 
followed ; but  reviving,  she  proceeded  — “ Why  should  I hesitate, 
on  the  brink  of  the  grave  ! Dunwoodie  was  my  next  and  my  last. 
But,”  burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  “ it  wa&  a love  that  was  un- 
sought.” 

“ Isabella !”  exclaimed  her  brother,  springing  from  the  bed,  and 
pacing  the  floor  in  disorder. 

“ See  how  dependent  we  become  under  the  dominion  of  worldly 
pride ; it  is  painful  to  George  to  learn  that  one  he  loves  had  not 
feelings  superior  to  her  nature  and  education.” 

“ Say  no  more,”  whispered  Frances ; “ you  distress  us  both  — say 
no  more,  I entreat  you.” 

“ In  justice  to  Dunwoodie  I must  speak ; and  for  the  same  reason, 
my  brother,  you  must  listen.  By  no  act  or  word  has  Dunwoodie 
ever  induced  me  to  believe,  he  wished  me  more  than  a friend : nay, 
latterly,  I have  had  the  burning  shame  of  thinking  that  he  avoided 
my  presence.” 

“ Would  he  dare!”  said  Singleton,  fiercely. 

“ Peace,  my  brother,  and  listen,”  continued  Isabella,  rousing  her- 
self with  an  effort  that  was  final;  “here  is  the  innocent,  the  justifi 


THE  SPY. 


325 


able  cause  We  are  both  motherless;  but  that  aunt  — that  mild, 
plain-hearted,  observing  aunt,  has  given  you  the  victory.  Oh  ! how 
much  she  loses,  who  loses  a female  guardian  to  her  youth.  I have 
exhibited  those  feelings  which  you  have  been  taught  to  repress. 
After  this,  can  I wish  to  live  V’ 

Isabella  ! my  poor  Isabella  ! you  wander  in  your  mind.” 

u But  one  word  more  — for  I feel  that  blood,  which  ever  flowed 
Coo  swiftly,  rushing  where  nature  never  intended  it  to  go.  Woman 
must  be  sought  to  be  prized ; her  life  is  one  of  concealed  emotions ; 
blessed  are  they  'whose  early  impressions  make  the  task  free  from 
hypocrisy,  for  such  only  can  be  happy  with  men  like  — like  Dun- 
woodie.”  Her  voice  failed,  and  she  sunk  back  on  her  pillow  in 
silence.  The  cry  of  Singleton  brought  the  rest  of  the  party  to  her 
bedside,  but  death  was  already  upon  her  countenance ; her  remain- 
ing strength  just  sufficed  to  reach  the  hand  of  George,  and  pressing 
it  to  her  bosom  for  a moment,  she  relinquished  her  grasp,  and,  with 
a slight  convulsion,  expired. 

Frances  Wharton  had  thought  that  fate  had  done  its  worst,  in 
endangering  the  life  of  her  brother,  and  destroying  the  reason  of  her 
sister ; but  the  relief  conveyed  by  the  dying  declaration  of  Isabella 
taught  her  that  another  sorrow  had  aided  in  loading  her  heart  with 
grief.  She  saw  the  whole  truth  at  a glance ; nor  wa«  the  manly 
delicacy  of  Dunwoodie  lost  upon  her  — every  thing  tended  to  raise 
him  in  her  estimation ; and,  for  mourning  that  duty  and  pride  had 
induced  her  to  strive  to  think  less  of  him,  she  was  compelled  to  sub- 
stitute regret  that  her  own  act  had  driven  him  from  her  in  sorrow, 
if  not  in  desperation.  It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  youth,  however,  to 
despair;  and  Frances  knew  a secret  joy  in  the  midst  of  their  dis- 
tress, that  gave  a new  spring  to  her  existence. 

The  sun  broke  forth,  on  the  morning  that  succeeded  this  night  of 
desolation,  in  unclouded  lustre,  and  seemed  to  mock  the  petty  sor- 
rows of  those  who  received  his  rays.  Lawton  had  early  ordered  his 
steed,  and  was  ready  to  mount  as  the  first  burst  of  light  broke  ever 


326 


T HE  SPY. 


the  hills.  His  orders  were  already  given,  and  the  trooper  threw  his 
leg  across  the  saddle,  in  silence ; and,  casting  a glance  of  fierce  cha- 
grin at  the  narrow  space  that  had  favoured  the  flight  of  the  Skinner, 
he  gave  Roanoke  the  rein,  and  moved  slowly  towards  the  valley. 

The  stillness  of  death  pervaded  the  road,  nor  was  there  a single 
vestige  of  the  scenes  of  the  night,  to  tarnish  the  loveliness  of  a glo- 
rious morn.  Struck  with  the  contrast  between  man  and  nature,  the 
fearless  trooper  rode  by  each  pass  of  danger,  regardless  of  what  might 
happen ; nor  did  he  rouse  himself  from  his  musing,  until  the  noble 
charger,  snuffing  the  morning  air,  greeted  the  steeds  of  the  guard 
under  Sergeant  Hollister. 

Here,  indeed,  was  to  be  seen  sad  evidence  of  the  midnight  fray ; 
but  the  trooper  glanced  his  eye  over  it  with  the  coolness  of  one  ac- 
customed to  such  sights.  Without  wasting  the  moments  in  useless 
regrets,  he  proceeded,  at  once,  to  business  — 

“ Have  you  seen  any  thing  ?”  he  demanded  of  the  orderly. 

“ Nothing,  sir,  that  we  dared  to  charge  upon,”  returned  Hollister; 
“but  we  mounted  once,  at  the  report  of  distant  fire-arms.” 

“’T is  well,”  said  Lawton,  gloomily.  “Ah!  Hollister,  I would 
give  the  animal  I ride,  to  have  had  your  single  arm  between  the 
wretch  who  drew  that  trigger  and  these  useless  rocks,  which  over- 
hang every  bit  of  ground,  as  if  they  grudged  pasture  to  a single  hoof.” 
“ Under  the  light  of  day,  and  charging  man  to  man,  I am  as  good 
as  another : but  I can’t  say  that  I ’m  over-fond  of  fighting  with  those 
that  neither  steel  nor  lead  can  bring  down.” 

“ What  silly  crotchet  is  uppermost,  now,  in  that  mystified  brain 
of  thine,  Deacon  Hollister?” 

“ I like  not  the  dark  object  that  has  been  manoeuvring  in  the 
skirt  of  the  wood  since  the  first  dawn  of  day ; and  twice,  during  the 
night,  it  was  seen  marching  across  the  fire-light,  no  doubt  with  evil 
intent.” 

“ Is  it  yon  ball  of  black,  at  the  foot  of  the  rock-maple,  that  you 
nean?  In  truth  it  moves.” 


THE  SPY. 


327 


“But  without  mortal  motion/*  said  the  Sergeant,  regarding  it 
with  awful  reverence : “ it  glides  along,  hut  no  feet  have  been  seen 
by  any  who  watch  here.” 

“ Had  it  wings,”  cried  Lawton,  “ it  is  mine ; stand  fast,  until  I 
join.”  The  words  were  hardly  uttered  before  Eoanoke  was  flying 
across  the  plain,  and  apparently  verifying  the  boast  of  his  master. 

“ Those  cursed  rocks  !”  ejaculated  the  trooper,  as  he  saw  the  ob- 
ject of  his  pursuit  approaching  the  hill-side ; but,  either  from  want 
of  practice  or  from  terror,  it  passed  the  obvious  shelter  they  offered, 
and  fled  into  the  open  plain. 

“ I have  you,  man  or  devil !”  shouted  Lawton,  whirling  his  sabre 
from  its  scabbard.  “ Halt,  and  take  quarter  !” 

His  proposition  was  apparently  acceded  to ; for,  at  the  sound  of 
his  powerful  voice,  the  figure  sunk  upon  the  ground,  exhibiting  a 
shapeless  ball  of  black,  without  life  or  motion. 

“ What  have  we  here  ?”  cried  Lawton,  drawing  up  by  its  side ; 
Ya  gala  suit  of  the  good  maiden,  Jeanette  Peyton,  wandering  around 
its  birth-place,  or  searching  in  vain  for  its  discomfited  mistress?” 
He  leaned  forward  in  his  stirrups,  and  placing  the  point  of  his  sword 
under  the  silken  garment,  by  throwing  aside  the  covering,  discovered 
part  of  the  form  of  the  reverend  gentleman  who  had  fled  from  the 
Locusts,  the  evening  before,  in  his  robes  of  office. 

“ In  truth,  Hollister  had  some  ground  for  his  alarm  ; an  army 
chaplain  is,  at  any  time,  a terror  to  a troop  of  horse.” 

The  clergyman  had  collected  enough  of  his  disturbed  faculties,  to 
discover  that  it  was  a face  he  knew,  and,  somewhat  disconcerted  at 
the  terror  he  had  manifested,  and  the  indecent  attitude  in  which  he 
had  been  found,  he  endeavoured  to  rise,  and  offer  some  explanation. 
Lawton  received  his  apologies  good-humouredly,  if  not  with  much 
faith  in  their  truth;  and,  after  a short  communication  upon  the 
state  of  the  valley,  the  trooper  courteously  alighted,  and  they  pro- 
ceeded towards  the  guard. 

“I  am  so  little  acquainted,  sir,  with  the  rebel  uniform,  that  1 


328 


THE  SPY. 


really  was  unable  to  distinguish,  whether  those  men,  whom  you  say 
are  your  own,  did  or  did  not  belong  to  the  gang  of  marauders.” 

“Apology,  sir,  is  unnecessary,”  replied  the  trooper,  curling  his 
lip ; “ it  is  not  your  task,  as  a minister  of  God,  to  take  note  of  the 
facings  of  a coat.  The  standard  under  which  you  serve  is  acknow 
ledged  by  us  all.” 

“ I serve  under  the  standard  of  his  gracious  majesty  George  III.,” 
returned  the  priest,  wiping  the  cold  sweat  from  his  brow;  “but 
really  the  idea  of  being  scalped  has  a strong  tendency  to  unman  a 
new  beginner,  like  myself.” 

“ Scalped !”  echoed  Lawton,  stopping  short  in  his  walk ; then 
recollecting  himself,  he  added,  with  composure,  — “ If  it  is  to  Dun- 
woodie’s  squadron  of  Virginia  light  dragoons  that  you  allude,  it  may 
be  well  to  inform  you  that  they  generally  take  a bit  of  the  skull  with 
the  skin.” 

“ Oh  ! I can  have  no  apprehensions  of  gentlemen  of  your  appear- 
ance,” said  the  divine,  with  a smirk ; “ it  is  the  natives  that  I appre- 
hend.” 

“ Natives ! I have  the  honour  to  be  one,  I do  assure  you,  sir.” 

“Nay,  I beg  that  I may  be  understood  — I mean  the  Indians; 
they  who  do  nothing  but  rob,  and  murder,  and  destroy.” 

“And  scalp !” 

“Yes,  sir,  and  scalp  too,”  continued  the  clergyman,  eyeing  his 
companion  a little  suspiciously;  “the  copper-coloured,  savage 
Indians.” 

“And  did  you  expect  to  meet  those  nose-jewelled  gentry  in  the 
neutral  ground?” 

“Certainly;  we  understand  in  England  that  the  interior  swarms 
with  them.” 

“And  call  you  this  the  interior  of  America  ?”  cried  Lawton,  again 
halting,  and  staring  the  other  in  the  face,  with  a surprise  too  natu- 
rally expressed  to  be  counterfeited. 

“ Surely  ^ir,  I conceive  myself  to  be  in  the  interior.” 


THE  SPY. 


329 


“Attend/*  said  Lawton,  pointing  towards  the  east ; “ see  you  not 
that  broad  sheet  of  water  which  the  eye  cannot  compass  ? thither  lies 
the  England  you  deem  worthy  to  hold  dominion  over  half  the  world. 
See  you  the  land  of  your  nativity?** 

“*T  is  impossible  to  behold  objects  at  a distance  of  three  thousand 
miles  !**  exclaimed  the  wondering  priest,  a little  suspicious  of  his 
companions  sanity. 

“ No  ! what  a pity  it  is  that  the  powers  of  man  are  not  equal  to 
his  ambition.  Now  turn  your  eyes  westward;  observe  that  vast  ex- 
panse of  water  which  rolls  between  the  shores  of  America  and  China.** 

“ I see  nothing  but  land,**  said  the  trembling  priest ; “ there  is 
no  water  to  be  seen.** 

“*Tis  impossible  to  behold  objects  at  a distance  of  three  thousand 
miles  !**  repeated  Lawton,  pursuing  his  walk : “ if  you  apprehend 
the  savages,  seek  them  in  the  ranks  of  your  prince.  Rum  and  gold 
have  preserved  their  loyalty.** 

“Nothing  is  more  probable  than  my  being  deceived,**  said  the 
man  of  peace,  casting  furtive  glances  at  the  colossal  stature  and 
whiskered  front  of  his  companion;  “but  the  rumours  we  have 
at  home,  and  the  uncertainty  of  meeting  with  such  an  enemy  as 
yourself,  induced  me  to  fly  at  your  approach.* 

“*Twas  not  judiciously  determined,**  said  the  trooper,  “as  Roa- 
noke has  the  heels  of  you  greatly ; and  flying  from  Scylla,  you  were 
liable  to  encounter  Chary bdis.  Those  woods  and  rocks  cover  the 
very  enemies  you  dread.** 

“ The  savages  !**  exclaimed  the  divine,  instinctively  placing  the 
trooper  in  the  rear. 

“ More  than  savages ; men  who,  under  the  guise  of  patriotism, 
prowl  through  the  community,  with  a thirst  for  plunder  that  is  un- 
satiable,  and  a love  of  cruelty  that  mocks  the  ingenuity  of  the  Indian. 
Fellows  whose  mouths  are  filled  with  liberty  and  equality,  and  whose 
hearts  are  overflowing  with  cupidity  and  gall  — gentlemen  that  are 
yclep*d  the  Skinners.** 


330 


THE  SPY. 


“ I have  heard  them  mentioned  in  our  army,”  said  the  frightened 
divine,  “ and  had  thought  them  to  be  the  aborigines.” 

“You  did  the  savages  injustice.” 

They  now  approached  the  spot  occupied  by  Hollister,  who  witness 
ed  with  surprise  the  character  of  the  prisoner  made  by  his  captain 
Lawton  gave  his  orders,  and  the  men  immediately  commenced  se- 
curing and  removing  such  articles  of  furniture  as  were  thought  worthy 
of  the  trouble;  and  the  captain,  with  his  reverend  associate,  who 
was  mounted  on  a mettled  horse,  returned  to  the  quarters  of  the 
troop. 

It  was  the  wish  of  Singleton  that  the  remains  of  his  sister  should 
be  conveyed  to  the  post  commanded  by  his  father,  and  preparations 
were  early  made  to  this  effect.  The  wounded  British  were  placed 
under  the  control  of  the  chaplain ; and  towards  the  middle  of  the 
day,  Lawton  saw  all  the  arrangements  so  far  completed,  as  to  render 
it  probable  that  in  a few  hours  he  would  be  left,  with  his  small 
party;  in  undisturbed  possession  of  the  Corners 

While  leaning  in  the  door-way,  gazing  in  moody  silence  at  the 
ground  which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  last  night’s  chase,  his  ear 
caught  the  sound  of  a horse,  and  the  next  moment  a dragoon  of  his 
own  troop  appeared  dashing  up  the  road,  as  if  on  business  of  the  last 
importance.  The  steed  was  foaming,  and  the  rider  had  the  appear- 
ance of  having  done  a hard  day’s  service.  Without  speaking,  he 
placed  a letter  in  the  hand  of  Lawton,  and  led  his  charger  to  the 
stable.  The  trooper  knew  the  hand  of  the  major,  and  ran  his  eye 
over  the  following  : — 

“I  rejoice  it  is  the  order  of  Washington,  that  the  family  of  the 
Locusts  are  to  be  removed  above  the  Highlands.  They  are  to  be 
admitted  to  the  society  of  Captain  Wharton,  who  waits  only  for  their 
testimony  to  be  tried.  You  will  communicate  this  order,  and  with 
proper  delicacy  I do  not  doubt.  The  English  are  moving  up  the 
river;  and  the  moment  you  see  the  Whartons  in  safety,  break  up, 
and  join  your  troop.  There  will  be  good  service  to  be  done  when 


THE  SPY. 


O')  i 

we  meet,  as  Sir  Henry  is  reported  to  have  sent  out  a real  soldier  in 
command.  Reports  must  be  made  to  the  commandant  at  Peekskill, 
for  Colonel  Singleton  is  withdrawn  to  head-quarters,  to  preside  over 
the  inquiry  upon  poor  Wharton.  Fresh  orders  have  been  sent  to 
hang  the  pedler  if  we  can  take  him,  but  they  are  not  from  the  com- 
mander-in-chief.— Detail  a small  guard  with  the  ladies,  and  get  into 
the  saddle  as  soon  as  possible. 

“ Yours,  sincerely, 

“Peyton  Dunwoodie.” 

This  communication  entirely  changed  the  whole  arrangement. 
There  was  no  longer  any  motive  for  removing  the  body  of  Isabella, 
since  her  father  was  no  longer  with  his  command,  and  Singleton  re- 
luctantly acquiesced  in  an  immediate  interment.  A retired  and 
lovely  spot  was  selected,  near  the  foot  of  the  adjacent  rocks,  and 
such  rude  preparations  were  made  as  the  time  and  the  situation  of 
the  country  permitted.  A few  of  the  neighbouring  inhabitants 
collected  from  curiosity  and  interest,  and  Miss  Peyton  and  Frances 
wept  in  sincerity  over  her  grave.  The  solemn  offices  of  the  church 
were  performed  by  the  minister,  who  had  so  lately  stood  forth  to 
officiate  in  another  and  very  different  duty ; and  Lawton  bent  his 
head,  and  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  while  the  words  that  ac- 
companied the  first  clod  were  uttered. 

A new  stimulus  was  given  to  the  Whartons  by  the  intelligence 
conveyed  in  the  letter  of  Dunw^oodie ; and  Caesar,  with  his  horses, 
was  once  more  put  in  requisition.  The  relics  of  the  property  were 
entrusted  to  a neighbour,  in  whom  they  had  confidence;  and,  ac- 
companied by  the  unconscious  Sarah,  and  attended  by  four  dragoons 
and  all  of  the  American  wounded,  Mr.  Wharton’s  party  took  their 
departure.  They  were  speedily  followed  by  the  English  chaplain, 
with  his  countrymen,  who  were  conveyed  to  the  water-side,  where  a 
vessel  was  in  waiting  to  receive  them.  Lawton  joyfully  witnessed 
these  movements;  and  as  soon  as  the  latter  were  out  of  sight,  he 


332 


THE  SPY. 


ordered  his  own  bugle  to  sound.  Every  thing  was  instantly  in 
motion.  The  mare  of  Mrs.  Flanagan  was  again  fastened  to  the  cart ; 
Dr.  Sitgreaves  exhibited  his  shapeless  form  once  more  on  horseback  • 
and  the  trooper  appeared  in  the  saddle,  rejoicing  in  his  emancipation. 

The  word  to  march  was  given ; and  Lawton,  throwing  a look  of 
sullen  ferocity  at  the  place  of  the  Skinner’s  concealment,  and  an- 
other of  melancholy  regret  towards  the  grave  of  Isabella,  led  the 
way,  accompanied  by  the  surgeon  in  a brown  study ; while  Sergeant 
Hollister  and  Betty  brought  up  the  rear,  leaving  a fresh  southerly 
wind  to  whistle  through  the  open  doors  and  broken  windows  of  the 
“ Hotel  Flanagan,”  where  the  laugh  of  hilarity,  the  joke  of  the 
hardy  partisan,  and  the  lamentations  of  the  sorrowing,  had  so  lately 
echoed. 


CHAPTER  XXY. 


No  vernal  blooms  their  torpid  rocks  array, 

But  winter,  lingering-,  chills  the  lap  of  May; 

No  zephyr  fondly  sues  the  mountain’s  breast, 

But  meteors  glare,  and  stormy  glooms  invest. 

Goldsmith. 

The  roads  of  West-Chester  are,  at  this  hour,  below  the  improve- 
ments of  the  country.  Their  condition  at  the  time  of  the  tale  has 
already  been  alluded  to  in  these  pages ; and  the  reader  will,  there- 
fore, easily  imagine  the  task  assumed  by  Caesar,  when  he  undertook 
to  guide  the  translated  chariot  of  the  English  prelate  through  their 
windings,  into  one  of  the  less  frequented  passes  of  the  Highlands  of 
the  Hudson. 

While  Caesar  and  his  steeds  were  contending  with  these  difficul- 
ties, the  inmates  of  the  carriage  were  too  much  engrossed  with  their 
own  cares  to  attend  to  those  who  served  them.  The  mind  of  Sarah 
had  ceased  to  wander  so  wildly  as  at  first  • but  at  every  advance  that 
she  made  towards  reason,  she  seemed  to  retire  a step  from  anima- 
tion • from  being  excited  and  flighty,  she  was  gradually  becoming 
moody  and  melancholy.  There  were  moments,  indeed,  when  her 
anxious  companions  thought  that  they  could  discern  marks  of  recol- 
lection * but  the  expression  of  exquisite  woe  that  accompanied  these 
transient  gleams  of  reason,  forced  them  to  the  dreadful  alternative 
of  wishing  that  she  might  for  ever  be  spared  the  agony  of  thought. 
The  day's  march  was  performed  chiefly  in  silence,  and  the  party 
found  shelter  for  the  night  in  different  farm-houses. 

The  following  morning  the  cavalcade  dispersed.  The  wounded 


334 


THE  SPY. 


diverged  towards  the  river,  with  the  intention  of  taking  water  at 
Peekskill,  in  order  to  be  transported  to  the  hospitals  of  the  American 
army  above.  The  litter  of  Singleton  was  conveyed  to  a part  of  the 
Highlands  where  his  father  held  his  quarters,  and  where  it  was  in- 
tended that  the  youth  should  complete  his  cure ; the  carriage  of  Mr. 
Wharton,  accompanied  by  a waggon  conveying  the  housekeeper  and 
what  baggage  had  been  saved,  and  could  be  transported,  resumed  its 
route  towards  the  place  where  Henry  Wharton  was  held  in  duresse, 
and  where  he  only  waited  their  arrival  to  be  put  on  trial  for  his  life. 

The  country  which  lies  between  the  waters  of  the  Hudson  and 
Long-Island  Sound,  is,  for  the  first  forty  miles  from  their  junction,  a 
succession  of  hills  and  dales.  The  land  bordering  on  the  latter  then 
becomes  less  abrupt,  and  gradually  assumes  a milder  appearance, 
until  it  finally  melts  into  the  lovely  plains  and  meadows  of  the  Con- 
necticut. But  as  you  approach  the  Hudson,  the  rugged  aspect  in- 
creases, until  you  at  length  meet  with  the  formidable  barrier  of  the 
Highlands.  Here  the  Neutral  Ground  ceased.  The  royal  army 
held  the  two  points  of  land  that  commanded  the  southern  entrance 
of  the  river  into  the  mountains ; but  all  the  remaining  passes  were 
guarded  by  the  Americans. 

We  have  already  stated  that  the  pickets  of  the  continental  army 
were  sometimes  pushed  low  into  the  country,  and  that  the  hamlet  of 
the  White  Plains  was  occasionally  maintained  by  parties  of  its  troops. 
At  other  times,  the  advanced  guards  were  withdrawn  to  the  northern 
extremity  of  the  county,  and,  as  has  been  shown,  the  intermediate 
country  was  abandoned  to  the  ravages  of  the  miscreants  who  plun- 
dered between  both  armies,  serving  neither. 

The  road  taken  by  our  party  was  not  the  one  that  communicates 
between  the  two  principal  cities  of  the  state,  but  was  a retired  and 
unfrequented  pass,  that  to  this  hour  is  but  little  known,  and  which 
entering  the  hills  near  the  eastern  boundary,  emerges  into  the  plain 
above,  many  miles  from  the  Hudson. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  the  tired  steeds  of  Mr.  Whar- 


THE  SPY. 


335 


ton  to  drag  the  heavy  chariot  up  the  lengthened  and  steep  ascents 
which  now  lay  before  them  ; and  a pair  of  country  horses  were  pro- 
cured, with  but  little  regard  to  their  owner’s  wishes,  by  the  two 
dragoons  who  still  continued  to  accompany  the  party.  With  their 
assistance,  Caesar  was  enabled  to  advance,  by  slow  and  toilsome 
steps,  into  the  bosom  of  the  hills.  Willing  to  relieve  her  own  me- 
lancholy by  breathing  a fresher  air,  and  also  to  lessen  the  weight, 
Frances  alighted  as  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  She 
found  that  Katy  had  made  similar  preparations,  with  the  like  inten- 
tion of  walking  to  the  summit.  It  was  near  the  setting  of  the  sun, 
and,  from  the  top  of  the  mountain,  their  guard  had  declared  that  the 
end  of  their  journey  might  be  discerned.  Frances  moved  forward 
with  the  elastic  step  of  youth ; and,  followed  by  the  housekeeper  at 
a little  distance,  she  soon  lost  sight  of  the  sluggish  carriage,  that 
was  slowly  toiling  up  the  hill,  occasionally  halting  to  allow  the  cattle 
to  breathe. 

“ Oh,  Miss  Fanny,  what  dreadful  times  these  be  1”  said  Katy, 
when  they  paused  for  breath  themselves ; “ I know’d  that  calamity 
was  about  to  befall,  ever  sin’  the  streak  of  blood  was  seen  in  the 
clouds.” 

“ There  has  been  blood  upon  earth,  Katy,  though  but  little  is 
ever  seen  in  the  clouds.” 

“Not  blood  in  the  clouds!”  echoed  the  housekeeper;  “yes,  that 
there  has,  often,  and  comets  with  fiery,  smoking  tails.  Did  n’t  peo- 
ple see  armed  men  in  the  heavens,  the  year  the  war  begun  ? and, 
the  night  before  the  battle  of  the  Plains,  was  n’t  there  thunder,  like 
the  cannon  themselves  ? — Ah ! Miss  Fanny,  I ’in  fearful  that  no 
good  can  follow  rebellion  against  the  Lord’s  anointed !” 

“ These  events  are  certainly  dreadful,”  returned  Frances,  “ and 
enough  to  sicken  the  stoutest  heart.  But  what  can  be  done,  Katy  ? 
— Gallant  and  independent  men  are  unwilling  to  submit  to  oppres- 
sion ; and  I am  fearful  that  such  scenes  are  but  too  common  in  war.” 

“If  1 could  but  see  any  thing  to  fight  about,”  said  Katy,  renew 


336 


THE  SPY. 


mg  her  walk  as  the  young  lady  proceeded,  “ I should  n’t  mind  it  so 
much.  'T  was  said  the  king  wanted  all  the  tea  for  his  own  family, 
at  one  time ; and  then  again,  that  he  meant  the  colonies  should  pay 
over  to  him  all  their  earnings.  Now  this  is  matter  enough  to  fight 
about  — for  I 'm  sure  that  no  one,  however  he  may  he  lord  or  king, 
has  a right  to  the  hard  earnings  of  another.  Then  it  was  all  contra- 
dicted, and  some  said  Washington  wanted  to  be  king  himself;  so 
that,  between  the  two,  one  doesn't  know  which  to  believe." 

“ Believe  neither  — for  neither  is  true.  I do  not  pretend  to  un- 
derstand, myself,  all  the  merits  of  this  war,  Katy;  but  to  me  it. 
seems  unnatural,  that  a country  like  this  should  be  ruled  by  another 
so  distant  as  England." 

u So  I have  heard  Harvey  say  to  his  father,  that  is  dead  and  in 
his  grave,"  returned  Katy,  approaching  nearer  to  the  young  lady, 
and  lowering  her  voice.  “ Many  is  the  good  time  that  I 've  listened 
to  them  talking,  when  all  the  neighbourhood  was  asleep ; and  such, 
conversations,  Miss  Fanny,  that  you  can  have  no  idea  on! — -Well, 
to  say  the  truth,  Harvey  was  a mystified  body,  and  he  was  like  the 
winds  in  the  good  book ; no  one  could  tell  whence  he  came,  or  whi- 
ther he  went." 

Frances  glanced  her  eye  at  her  companion  with  an  apparent  desire 
to  hear  more. 

u There  are  rumours  abroad  relative  to  the  character  of  Harvey," 
she  said,  u that  I should  be  sorry  were  true." 

“ 'T  is  a disparagement,  every  word  on 't,"  cried  Katy,  vehemently ; 
u Harvey  had  no  more  dealings  with  Belzebub  than  you  or  I had. 
I 'm  sure  if  Harvey  had  sold  himself,  he  would  take  care  to  be  bet- 
ter paid ; though,  to  speak  the  truth,  he  was  always  a wasteful  and 
disregardful  man." 

“ Nay,  nay,"  returned  the  smiling  Frances,  u I have  no  such  in- 
jurious suspicion  of  him ; but  has  he  not  sold  himself  to  an  earthly 
prince  — one  too  much  attached  to  the  interests  of  his  native  island 
to  be  always  just  to  this  country  ?" 


THE  SPY. 


837 

u To  the  king’s  majesty !”  replied  Katy.  u Why,  Miss  Fanny, 
your  own  brother  that  is  in  gaol  serves  King  George .” 

True,”  said  Frances,  u but  not  in  secret — openly,  manfully,  and 
bravely.” 

“’Tis  said  he  is  a spy,  and  why  an’tmie  spy  as  bad  as  another?” 

“’Tis  untrue;  no  act  of  deception  is  worthy  of  my  brother;  nor 
of  any  would  he  be  guilty,  for  so  base  a purpose  as  gain,  or  promo- 
tion.” 

“ Well,  I’m  sure,”  said  Katy,  a little  appalled  at  the  manner  of 
the  young  lady,  “ if  a body  does  the  work,  he  should  be  paid  for  it. 
Harvey  is  by  no  means  partic’lar  about  getting  his  lawful  dues ; and 
I dar’st  to  say,  if  the  truth  was  forthcoming,  King  George  owes  him 
money  this  very  minute.” 

u Then  you  acknowledge  his  connexion  with  the  British  army,” 
said  Frances ; u I confess  there  have  been  moments  when  I have 
thought  differently.” 

u Lord,  Miss  Fanny,  Harvey  is  a man  that  no  calculation  can  be 
made  on.  Though  I lived  in  his  house  for  a long  concourse  of  years, 
I have  never  known  whether  he  belonged  above  or  below.*  The 
time  that  Burg’yne  was  taken,  he  came  home,  and  there  was  great 
doings  between  him  and  the  old  gentleman,  but  for  the  life  I couldn’t 
tell  if  ’twas  joy  or  grief.  Then,  here,  the  other  day,  when  the  great 
British  general  — I’m  sure  I have  been  so  flurried  with  losses  and 
troubles,  that  I forget  his  name — ” 

“ Andre,”  said  Frances. 

u Yes,  Ondree ; when  he  was  hanged,  acrost  the  Tappaan,  the  old 
gentleman  was  near  hand  to  going  crazy  about  it,  and  didn’t  sleep 
for  night  nor  day,  till  Harvey  got  back ; and  then  his  money  was 
mostly  golden  guineas ; but  the  Skinners  took  it  all,  and  now  he  is 

* The  American  party  was  called  the  party  belonging  “ above,”  and  the 
British  that  of  “ below.”  The  terms  had  reference  to  the  course  of  the 
Hudson. 


15 


338 


THE  SPY. 


a beggar,  or,  what's  the  same  thing,  despisable  for  poverty  and 
want." 

To  this  speech  Frances  made  no  reply,  but  continued  her  walk  up 
the  hill,  deeply  engaged  in  her  own  reflections.  The  allusion  to 
Andre  had  recalled  her  thoughts  to  the  situation  of  her  own  bro- 
ther. 

They  soon  reached  the  highest  point  in  their  toilsome  progress 
to  the  summit,  and  Frances  seated  herself  on  a rock  to  rest  and  to 
admire.  Immediately  at  her  feet  lay  a deep  dell,  but  little  altered 
by  cultivation,  and  dark  with  the  gloom  of  a November  sunset. 
Another  hill  rose  opposite  to  the  place  where  she  sat,  at  no  great 
distance,  along  whose  rugged  sides  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  shape- 
less rocks,  and  oaks  whose  stinted  growth  showed  a meagre  soil. 

To  be  seen  in  their  perfection,  the  Highlands  must  be  passed  im- 
mediately after  the  fall  of  the  leaf.  The  scene  is  then  the  finest,  for 
neither  the  scanty  foliage  which  the  summer  lends  the  trees,  nor  the 
snows  of  winter,  are  present  to  conceal  the  minutest  objects  from  the 
eye.  Chilling  solitude  is  the  characteristic  of  the  scenery ; nor  is 
the  mind  at  liberty,  as  in  March,  to  look  forward  to  a renewed  vege- 
tation that  is  soon  to  check,  without  improving,  the  view. 

The  day  had  been  cloudy  and  cool,  and  thin  fleecy  clouds  hung 
around  the  horizon,  often  promising  to  disperse,  but  as  frequently 
disappointing  Frances  in  the  hope  of  catching  a parting  beam  from 
the  setting  sun.  At  length  a solitary  gleam  struck  on  the  base  of 
the  mountain  on  which  she  was  gazing,  and  moved  gracefully  up  its 
side,  until,  reaching  the  summit,  it  stood  for  a minute,  forming  a 
crown  of  glory  to  the  sombre  pile.  So  strong  were  the  rays,  that 
what  was  before  indistinct  now  clearly  opened  to  the  view.  With  a 
feeling  of  awe  at  being  thus  unexpectedly  admitted,  as  it  were,  into 
the  secrets  of  that  desert  place,  Frances  gazed  intently,  until,  among 
the  scattered  trees  and  fantastic  rocks,  something  like  a rude  struc- 
ture was  seen.  It  was  low,  and  so  obscured  by  the  colour  of  its 
materials,  that  but  for  its  roof,  and  the  glittering  of  a window,  it 


THE  SPY. 


339 


must  have  escaped  her  notice.  While  yet  lost  in  the  astonishment 
created  by  discovering  a habitation  in  such  a spot,  on  moving  her 
eyes  she  perceived  another  object  that  increased  her  wonder.  It 
apparently  was  a human  figure,  but  of  singular  mould  and  unusual 
deformity.  It  stood  on  the  edge  of  a rock,  a little  above  the  hut, 
and  it  was  no  difficult  task  for  our  heroine  to  fancy  it  was  gazing  at 
the  vehicles  that  were  ascending  the  side  of  the  mountain  beneath 
her.  The  distance,  however,  was  too  great  to  distinguish  with  pre- 
cision. After  looking  at  it  a moment  in  breathless  wonder,' Frances 
had  just  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  ideal,  and  that  what  she 
saw  was  a part  of  the  rock  itself,  when  the  object  moved  swiftly  from 
its  position,  and  glided  into  the  hut,  at  once  removing  every  doubt  as 
to  the  nature  of  either.  Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  recent  conver- 
sation that  she  had  been  holding  with  Katy,  or  to  some  fancied  re- 
semblance that  she  discerned,  Frances  thought,  as  the  figure  vanished 
from  her  view,  that  it  bore  a marked  likeness  to  Birch,  moving  under 
the  weight  of  his  pack.  She  continued  to  gaze  towards  the  myste- 
rious residence,  when  the  gleam  of  light  passed  away,  and  at  the 
same  instant  the  tones  of  a bugle  rang  through  the  glens  and  hoi 
lows,  and  were  re-echoed  in  every  direction.  Springing  on  her  feet, 
the  alarmed  girl  heard  the  trampling  of  horses,  and  directly  a party 
in  the  well-known  uniform  of  the  Virginians  came  sweeping  round 
the  point  of  a rock  near  her,  and  drew  up  at  a short  distance.  Again 
the  bugle  sounded  a lively  strain,  and  before  the  agitated  Frances 
had  time  to  rally  her  thoughts,  Dunwoodie  dashed  by  the  party  of 
dragoons,  threw  himself  from  his  charger,  and  advanced  to  her  side. 

His  manner  was  earnest  and  interested,  but  in  a slight  degree 
constrained.  In  a few  words  he  explained  that  he  had  been  ordered 
up,  with  a party  of  Lawton’s  men,  in  the  absence  of  the  Captain 
himself,  to  attend  the  trial  of  Henry,  which  was  fixed  for  the  mor- 
row ; and  that,  anxious  for  their  safety  in  the  rude  passes  of  the 
mountain,  he  had  ridden  a mile  or  two  in  quest  of  the  travellers. 
Frances  explained,  with  trembling  voice,  the  reason  of  her  being  in 


340 


THE  SPY. 


advance,  and  taught  him  momentarily  to  expect  the  arrival  of  hei 
father.  The  constraint  of  his  manner  had,  however,  unwillingly  on 
her  part,  communicated  itself  to  her  own  deportment,  and  the 
approach  of  the  chariot  was  a relief  to  both.  The  Major  handed 
her  in,  spoke  a few  words  of  encouragement  to  Mr.  Wharton  and 
Miss  Peyton,  and  again  mounting,  led  the  way  towards  the  plains 
of  Fishkill,  which  broke  on  their  sight,  on  turning  the  rock,  with  the 
effect  of  enchantment.  A short  half-hour  brought  them  to  the  door 
of  the  farm-house,  which  the  care  of  Dunwoodie  had  already  pre- 
pared for  their  reception,  and  where  Captain  Wharton  was  anxiously 
expecting  their  arrival. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 


These  limbs  are  strengthen’d  with  a soldier’s  toil, 

Nor  has  this  cheek  been  ever  blanch’d  with  feai  — 

But  this  sad  tale  of  thine  enervates  all 
Within  me  that  I once  could  boast  as  man ; 

Chill  trembling  agues  seize  upon  my  frame, 

And  tears  of  childish  sorrow  pour,  apace, 

Through  scarred  channels  that  were  mark’d  by  wounds. 

Duo. 

The  friends  of  Henry  Wharton  had  placed  so  much  reliance  on  his 
innocence,  that  they  were  unable  to  see  the  full  danger  of  his  situa- 
tion. As  the  moment  of  trial,  however,  approached,  the  uneasiness 
of  the  youth  himself  increased ; and  after  spending  most  of  the  night 
with  his  afflicted  family,  he  awoke,  on  the  following  morning,  from 
a short  and  disturbed  slumber,  to  a clearer  sense  of  his  condition, 
and  a survey  of  the  means  that  were  to  extricate  him  from  it  with 
life.  The  rank  of  Andre,  and  the  importance  of  the  measures  he 
was  plotting,  together  with  the  powerful  intercessions  that  had  been 
made  in  his  behalf,  occasioned  his  execution  to  be  stamped  with 
greater  notoriety  than  the  ordinary  events  of  the  war.  But  spies 
were  frequently  arrested ; and  the  instances  that  occurred  of  sum- 
mary punishment  for  this  crime  were  numerous.  These  were  facts 
that  were  well  known  to  both  Dunwoodie  and  the  prisoner;  and  to 
their  experienced  judgments  the  preparations  for  the  trial  were 
indeed  alarming.  Notwithstanding  their  apprehensions,  they  suc- 
ceeded so  far  in  concealing  them,  that  neither  Miss  Peyton  nor 
Frances  was  aware  of  their  extent.  A strong  guard  was  stationed 
in  the  out-building  of  the  farm-house  where  the  prisoner  was  quar- 


342 


THE  SPY. 


tered,  and  several  sentinels  watched  the  avenues  that  approached  the 
dwelling.  Another  was  constantly  near  the  room  of  the  British 
officer.  A court  was  already  detailed  to  examine  into  the  cir  di- 
stances ; and  upon  their  decision  the  fate  of  Henry  rested. 

The  moment  at  length  arrived,  and  the  different  actors  in  the 
approaching  investigation  assembled.  Frances  experienced  a feeling 
like  suffocation,  as,  after  taking  her  seat  in  the  midst  of  her  family, 
her  eyes  wandered  over  the  group  who  were  thus  collected.  The 
judges,  three  in  number,  sat  by  themselves,  clad  in  the  vestments 
of  their  profession,  and  maintained  a gravity  worthy  of  the  occasion, 
and  becoming  in  their  rank.  In  the  centre  was  a man  of  advanced 
years,  and  whose  whole  exterior  bore  the  stamp  of  early  and  long- 
tried  military  habits.  This  was  the  president  of  the  court;  and 
Frances,  after  taking  a hasty  and  unsatisfactory  view  of  his  associates, 
turned  to  his  benevolent  countenance  as  to  the  harbinger  of  mercy 
to  her  brother.  There  was  a melting  and  subdued  expression  in  the 
features  of  the  veteran,  that,  contrasted  with  the  rigid  decency  and 
composure  of  the  others,  could  not  fail  to  attract  her  notice.  His 
attire  was  strictly  in  conformity  to  the  prescribed  rules  of  the  ser- 
vice to  which  he  belonged ; but  while  his  hair  was  erect  and  military, 
his  fingers  trifled,  with  a kind  of  convulsive  and  unconscious  motion, 
with  a bit  of  crape  that  entwined  the  hilt  of  the  sword  on  which  his 
body  partly  reclined,  and  which,  like  himself,  seemed  a relic  of  older 
times.  There  were  the  workings  of  an  unquiet  soul  within ; but  his 
military  front  blended  awe  with  the  pity  that  its  exhibition  excited. 
His  associates  were  officers  selected  from  the  eastern  troops,  who  held 
the  fortresses  of  West  Point  and  the  adjacent  passes;  they  were  men 
who  had  attained  the  meridian  of  life,  and  the  eye  sought  in  vain 
the  expression  of  any  passion  or  emotion  on  which  it  might  seize  as 
an  indication  of  human  infirmity.  In  their  demeanour,  there  was  a 
mild,  but  a grave,  intellectual  reserve.  If  there  was  no  ferocity  nor 
harshness  to  chill,  neither  was  there  compassion  nor  interest  to 
attract.  They  were  men  who  had  long  acted  under  the  dominion 


THE  SPY. 


343 


of  a prudent  reason,  and  whose  feelings  seemed  trained  to  a perfect 
submission  to  their  judgments. 

Before  these  arbiters  of  his  fate  Henry  Wharton  was  ushered, 
under  the  custody  of  armed  men.  A profound  and  awful  silence 
succeeded  his  entrance,  and  the  blood  of  Frances  chilled  as  she 
noted  the  grave  character  of  the  whole  proceedings.  There  was  but 
little  of  pomp  in  the  preparations,  to  impress  her  imagination ; but 
the  reserved,  business-like  air  of  the  whole  scene  made  it  seem,  in- 
deed, as  if  the  destinies  of  life  awaited  the  result  Two  of  the  judges 
sat  in  grave  reserve,  fixing  their  inquiring  eyes  on  the  object  of  their 
investigation;  but  the  president  continued  gazing  around  with  uneas}r, 
convulsive  motions  of  the  muscles  of  the  face,  that  indicated  a rest- 
lessness, foreign  to  his  years  and  duty.  It  was  Colonel  Singleton, 
who,  but  the  day  before,  had  learned  the  fate  of  Isabella,  but  who 
stood  forth  in  the  discharge  of  a duty  that  his  country  required  at 
his  hands.  The  silence,  and  the  expectation  in  every  eye,  at  length 
struck  him,  and  making  an  effort  to  collect  himself,  he  spoke,  in  the 
tones  of  one  used  to  authority. 

“ Bring  forth  the  prisoner,”  he  said,  with  a wave  of  the 
hand. 

The  sentinels  dropped  the  points  of  their  bayonets  towards  the 
judges,  and  Henry  Wharton  advanced,  with  a firm  step,  into  the 
centre  of  the  apartment.  All  was  now  anxiety  and  eager  curiosity. 
Frances  turned  for  a moment  in  grateful  emotion,  as  the  deep  and 
perturbed  breathing  of  Dunwoodie  reached  her  ears ; but  her  bro- 
ther again  concentrated  all  her  interest  in  one  feeling  of  intense  care. 
In  the  back-ground  were  arranged  the  inmates  of  the  family  who 
owned  the  dwelling,  and  behind  them,  again,  was  a row  of  shining 
faces  of  ebony,  glistening  with  pleased  wonder.  Amongst  these  was 
the  faded  lustre  of  Caesar  Thompson’s  countenance. 

“ You  are  said,”  continued  the  president,  u to  be  Henry  Wharton, 
a captain  in  his  Britannic  majesty’s  60th  regiment  of  foot.” 

“ I am.” 


344 


THE  SPY. 


“ I like  your  candour,  sir ; it  partakes  of  the  honourable  feelings 
of  a soldier,  and  cannot  fail  to  impress  your  judges  favourably.” 

“ It  would  be  prudent,”  said  one  of  his  companions,  “ to  advise 
the  prisoner  that  he  is  bound  to  answer  no  more  than  he  deems  ne- 
cessary : although  we  are  a court  of  martial  law,  yet,  in  this  respect, 
we  own  the  principles  of  all  free  governments.” 

A nod  of  approbation  from  the  silent  member  was  bestowed  on 
this  remark,  and  the  president  proceeded  with  caution,  referring  to 
the  minutes  he  held  in  his  hand. 

“It  is  an  accusation  against  you,  that,  being  an  officer  of  the 
enemy,  you  passed  the  pickets  of  the  American  army  at  the  White 
Plains,  in  disguise,  on  the  29th  of  October  last,  whereby  you  are 
suspected  of  views  hostile  to  the  interests  of  America,  and  have 
subjected  yourself  to  the  punishment  of  a spy.” 

The  mild,  but  steady  tones  of  the  speaker,  as  he  slowly  repeated 
the  substance  of  this  charge,  were  full  of  authority.  The  accusation 
was  so  plain,  the  facts  so  limited,  the  proof  so  obvious,  and  the 
penalty  so  well  established,  that  escape  seemed  impossible.  But 
Henry  replied,  with  earnest  grace — 

“That  I passed  your  pickets  in  disguise,  is  true;  but — ” 
“Peace!”  interrupted  the  president;  “the  usages  of  war  are 
stern  enough  in  themselves ; you  need  not  aid  them  to  your  own 
condemnation.” 

“ The  prisoner  can  retract  that  declaration,  if  he  please,”  remark- 
ed another  judge.  “ His  confession,  if  taken,  goes  fully  to  prove 
the  charge.” 

“ I retract  nothing  that  is  true,”  said  Henry,  proudly. 

The  two  nameless  judges  heard  him  in  silent  composure,  yet  there 
was  no  exultation  mingled  with  their  gravity.  The  president  now 
appeared,  however,  to  take  new  interest  in  the  scene. 

“Your  sentiment  is  noble,  sir,”  he  said;  “I  only  regret  that  a 
youthful  soldier  should  so  far  be  misled  by  loyalty  as  to  lend  him- 
self to  the  purposes  of  deceit.” 


THE  SPY. 


345 


“ Deceit !”  echoed  Wharton ; “ I thought  it  prudent  to  guard 
against  capture  from  my  enemies.” 

“ A soldier,  Captain  Wharton,  should  never  meet  his  enemy  but 
openly,  and  with  arms  in  his  hands.  1 have  served  two  kings  of 
England,  as  I now  serve  my  native  land;  but  never  did  I approach 
a foe,  unless  under  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  with  honest  notice  that 
an  enemy  was  nigh.” 

“ You  are  at  liberty  to  explain  what  your  motives  were  in  entering 
the  ground  held  by  our  army  in  disguise,”  said  the  other  judge,  with 
a slight  movement  of  the  muscles  of  his  mouth. 

“ I am  the  son  of  this  aged  man  before  you,”  continued  Henry. 
“ It  was  to  visit  him  that  I encountered  the  danger.  Besides,  the 
country  below  is  seldom  held  by  your  troops,  and  its  very  name 
implies  a right  to  either  party  to  move  at  pleasure  over  its  terri- 
tory.” 

“ Its  name,  as  a neutral  ground,  is  unauthorised  by  law ; it  is  an 
appellation  that  originates  with  the  condition  of  the  country.  But 
wherever  an  army  goes,  it  carries  its  rights  along,  and  the  first  is, 
the  ability  to  protect  itself. 

“ I am  no  casuist,  sir,”  returned  the  youth;  “ but  I feel  that  my 
father  is  entitled  to  my  affection,  and  I would  encounter  greater 
risks  to  prove  it  to  him  in  his  old  age.” 

“ A very  commendable  spirit,”  cried  the  veteran ; “ come,  gentle- 
men, this  business  brightens.  I confess,  at  first,  it  was  very  bad , 
but  no  man  can  censure  him  for  desiring  to  see  his  parents.” 

“ And  have  you  proof  that  such  only  was  your  intention  ?” 

“Yes  — here,”  said  Henry,  admitting  a ray  of  hope;  “here  is 
proof — my  father,  my  sister,  Major  Dunwoodie,  all  know  it.” 

“ Then,  indeed,”  returned  his  immovable  judge,  “ we  may  be  able 
to  save  you.  It  would  be  well,  sir,  to  examine  further  into  this 
business.” 

“ Certainly,”  said  the  president,  with  alacrity;  “ let  the  elder  Mr. 
Wharton  approach  and  take  the  oath.” 

* 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


*46 

The  father  made  an  effort  at  composure,  and,  advancing  with  a 
feeble  step,  he  complied  with  the  necessary  forms  of  the  court. 

“ You  are  the  father  of  the  prisoner  ?”  said  Colonel  Singleton,  in 
a subdued  voice,  after  pausing  a moment  in  respect  for  the  agitation 
of  the  witness. 

“ He  is  my  only  son.” 

“ And  what  do  you  know  of  his  visit  to  your  house,  on  the  29th 
day  of  October  last  ?” 

“ He  came,  as  he  told  you.  to  see  me  and  his  sisters.” 

“Was  he  in  disguise?”  asked  the  other  judge. 

“He  did  not  wear  the  uniform  of  the  60th.” 

“ To  see  his  sisters,  too  !”  said  the  president  with  great  emotion. 
“Have  you  daughters,  sir?” 

“I  have  two  — both  are  in  this  house.” 

“Had  he  a wig?”  interrupted  the  officer. 

“ There  was  some  such  thing,  I do  believe,  upon  his  head.” 

“ And  how  long  had  you  been  separated  ?”  asked  the  president. 

“ One  year  and  two  months.” 

“ Hid  he  wear  a loose  great-coat  of  coarse  materials  ?”  inquired 
the  officer,  referring  to  the  paper  that  contained  the  charges. 

“ There  was  an  over-coat.” 

“ And  you  think  that  it  was  to  see  you,  only,  that  he  came  out  ?” 
“Me,  and  my  daughters.” 

“ A boy  of  spirit,”  whispered  the  president  to  his  silent  comrade. 
“ I see  but  little  harm  in  such  a freak ; 'twas  imprudent,  but  then  it 
•vas  kind.” 

“ Ho  you  know  that  your  son  was  intrusted  with  no  commission 
from  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  and  that  the  visit  to  you  was  not  merely  a 
cloak  to  other  designs?” 

“ How  can  I know  it  ?”  said  Mr.  Wharton,  in  alarm ) “ would  Sir 
Henry  intrust  me  with  such  a business  ?” 

“ Know  you  any  thing  of  this  pass  ?”  exhibiting  the  paper  that 
Hunwoodie  had  retained  when  Wharton  was  taken. 


THE  SPY. 


347 


“ Nothing  — upon  my  honour,  nothing/’  cried  the  father  shrink- 
ing from  the  paper  as  from  contagion. 

“On  your  oath?” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ Have  you  other  testimony  ? — this  does  not  avail  you,  Captain 
Wharton.  You  have  been  taken  in  a situation  where  your  life  is 
forfeited ; the  labour  of  proving  your  innocence  rests  with  yourself. 
Take  time  to  reflect,  and  be  cool.” 

There  was  a frightful  calmness  in  the  manner  of  this  judge  that 
appalled  the  prisoner.  In  the  sympathy  of  Colonel  Singleton,  he 
could  easily  lose  sight  of  his  danger ; but  the  obdurate  and  collected 
air  of  the  others  was  ominous  of  his  fate.  He  continued  silent,  cast- 
ing imploring  glances  towards  his  friend.  Dunwoodie  understood  the 
appeal,  and  offered  himself  as  a witness.  He  was  sworn,  and  desired 
to  relate  what  he  knew.  His  statement  did  not  materially  alter  the 
case,  and  Dunwoodie  felt  that  it  could  not.  To  him  personally  but 
little  was  known,  and  that  little  rather  militated  against  the  safety 
of  Henry  than  otherwise.  His  account  was  listened  to  in  silence, 
and  the  significant  shake  of  the  head  that  was  made  by  the  sile  i . 
member  spoke  too  plainly  what  effect  it  had  produced. 

“ Still  you  think  that  the  prisoner  had  no  other  object  than  what 
he  has  avowed  ?”  said  the  president,  when  he  had  ended. 

“None  other,  I will  pledge  my  life,”  cried  the  major,  with  fervour. 

“ Will  you  swear  it  ?”  asked  the  immovable  judge. 

“ How  can  I ? God  alone  can  tell  the  heart ; but  I have  known 
this  gentleman  from  a boy ; deceit  never  formed  part  of  his  character. 
He  is  above  it.” 

“ You  say  that  he  escaped,  and  was  retaken  in  open  arms  ?”  said 
the  president. 

“ He  was;  nay,  he  received  a wound  in  the  combat.  You  see  he 
yet  moves  his  arm  with  difficulty.  Would  he,  think  you,  sir,  have 
trusted  himself  where  he  could  fall  again  into  our  hands,  unless  con- 
rcious  of  innocence?” 


348 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


“ Would  Andre  have  deserted  a field  of  battle,  Major  Dunwoodie, 
had  he  encountered  such  an  event,  near  Tarrytown  ?”  asked  his  deli- 
berate examiner.  “ Is  it  not  natural  to  youth  to  seek  glory  ?” 

“ Do  you  call  this  glory  ?”  exclaimed  the  major;  “ an  ignomini- 
ous death,  and  a tarnished  name.” 

“ Major  Dunwoodie,”  returned  the  other,  still  with  inveterate 
gravity,  “ you  have  acted  nobly ; your  duty  has  been  arduous  and 
severe,  but  it  has  been  faithfully  and  honourably  discharged ; ours 
must  not  be  less  so.” 

During  the  examination,  the  most  intense  interest  prevailed  among 
the  hearers.  With  that  kind  of  feeling  which  could  not  separate  the 
principle  from  the  cause,  most  of  the  auditors  thought  that  if  Dun- 
woodie failed  to  move  the  hearts  of  Henry’s  judges,  no  other  pos- 
sessed the  power.  Caesar  thrust  his  misshapen  form  forward ; and 
his  features,  so  expressive  of  the  concern  he  felt,  and  so  different 
from  the  vacant  curiosity  pictured  in  the  countenances  of  the  other 
blacks,  caught  the  attention  of  the  silent  judge.  For  the  first  time 
he  spoke  — 

“Let  that  black  be  brought  forward.” 

It  was  too  late  to  retreat,  and  Caesar  found  himself  confronted 
with  a row  of  rebel  officers,  before  he  knew  what  was  uppermost  in 
his  thoughts.  The  others  yielded  the  examination  to  the  one  who 
suggested  it,  and  using  all  due  deliberation,  he  proceeded  accordingly. 

“Yoju  know  the  prisoner?” 

“ I tink  he  ought,”  returned  the  black,  in  a manner  as  sententious 
as  that  of  his  examiner. 

“ Did  he  give  you  the  wig,  when  he  threw  it  aside  ?” 

“ I don’t  want  ’em,”  grumbled  Caesar ; “ got  a berry  good  hair 
he’ self.” 

“Were  you  employed  in  carrying  any  letters  or  messages  while 
Captain  Wharton  was  in  your  master’s  house  ?’’ 

“ I do  what  a tell  me,”  returned  the  black. 

“But  what  did  they  tell  you  to  do?” 


THE  SPY. 


349 


“Sometime  a one  ting  — sometime  anoder.” 

“ Enough,”  said  Colonel  Singleton,  with  dignity ; “ you  have  the 
noble  acknowledgment  of  a gentleman,  what  more  can  you  obtain 
from  this  slave  ? Captain  Wharton,  you  perceive  the  unfortunate  im- 
pression against  you.  Have  you  other  testimony  to  adduce  ?” 

To  Henry  there  now  remained  but  little  hope ; his  confidence  in 
his  security  was  fast  ebbing,  but  with  an  indefinite  expectation  of 
assistance  from  the  loveliness  of  his  sister,  he  fixed  an  earnest  gaze 
on  the  pallid  features  of  Frances.  She  arose,  and  with  a tottering 
step  moved  towards  the  judges ; the  paleness  of  her  cheek  continued 
but  for  a moment,  and  gave  place  to  a flush  of  fire,  and  with  a light, 
but  firm  tread,  she  stood  before  them.  Raising  her  hand  to  her 
polished  forehead,  Frances  threw  aside  her  exuberant  locks,  and  dis- 
played a picture  of  beauty  and  innocence  to  their  view  that  might 
have  moved  even  sterner  natures.  The  president  shrouded  his  eyes 
for  a moment,  as  if  the  wild  eye  and  speaking  countenance  recalled 
the  image  of  another.  The  movement  was  transient,  and  recover- 
ing himself,  he  said,  with  an  earnestness  that  betrayed  his  secret 
wishes  — 

“ To  you,  then,  your  brother  previously  communicated  his  inten- 
tion of  paying  your  family  a secret  visit  ?” 

“No  ! — no  !”  said  Frances,  pressing  her  hand  on  her  brain,  as  if 
to  collect  her  thoughts ; “ he  told  me  nothing  — we  knew  not  of  the 
visit  until  he  arrived ; but  can  it  be  necessary  to  explain  to  gallant 
men,  that  a child  would  incur  hazard  to  meet  his  only  parent,  and 
that  in  times  like  these,  and  in  a situation  like  ours  ?” 

“ But  was  this  the  first  time  ? Hid  he  never  even  talk  of  doing  so 
before?”  enquired  the  colonel  leaning  towards  her  with  paternal 
interest. 

“ Certainly  — certainly,”  cried  Frances,  catching  the  expression 
of  his  own  benevolent  countenance.  “ This  is  but  the  fourth  of  his 
visits.” 

“ I knew  it !”  exclaimed  the  veteran,  rubbing  his  hands  with  dc- 


850 


THE  SPY. 


light  • “ an  adventurous,  warm-hearted  son  — I warrant  me,  gentle 
men,  a fiery  soldier  in  the  field ! In  what  disguises  did  he  come  ?” 
u In  none,  for  none  were  then  necessary ; the  royal  troops  covered 
the  country,  and  gave  him  safe  passage.” 

“And  was  this  the  first  of  his  visits  out  of  the  uniform  of  hi3 
regiment  ?”  asked  the  colonel,  in  a suppressed  voice,  avoiding  the 
penetrating  looks  of  his  companions. 

“ Oh  ! the  very  first,”  exclaimed  the  eager  girl ; u his  first  offence, 
I do  assure  you,  if  offence  it  be.” 

“ But  you  wrote  him  — you  urged  the  visit  • surely,  young  lady, 
you  wished  to  see  your  brother  ?”  added  the  impatient  colonel. 

“ That  we  wished  it,  and  prayed  for  it,  — oh,  how  fervently  we 
prayed  for  it!  — is  true;  but  to  have  held  communion  with  the 
royal  army  would  have  endangered  our  father,  and  we  dared  not.” 

“ Did  he  leave  the  house  until  taken,  or  had  he  intercourse  with 
any  out  of  your  own  dwelling?” 

“With  none  — no  one,  excepting  our  neighbour,  the  pedlei 
Birch.” 

“ With  whom  ?”  exclaimed  the  colonel,  turning  pale,  and  shrink- 
ing as  from  the  sting  of  an  adder. 

Dunwoodie  groaned  aloud,  and  striking  his  head  with  his  hand, 
cried,  in  piercing  tones,  “ He  is  lost !”  and  rushed  from  the  apart- 
ment. 

“ But  Harvey  Birch,”  repeated  Frances,  gazing  wildly  at  the  door 
through  which  her  lover  had  disappeared. 

“ Harvey  Birch !”  echoed  all  the  judges.  The  two  immovable 
members  of  the  court  exchanged  looks,  and  threw  an  inquisitive 
glance  at  their  prisoner. 

“ To  you,  gentlemen,  it  can  be  no  new  intelligence  to  hear  that 
Harvey  Birch  is  suspected  of  favouring  the  royal  cause,”  said  Henry, 
again  advancing  before  the  judges ; “ for  he  has  already  been  con- 
demned by  your  tribunals  to  the  fate  that  I now  see  awaits  myself. 
I will  therefore  explain,  that  it  was  by  his  assistance  I procured  the 


THE  SPY. 


351 


disguise,  and  passed  your  pickets;  but  to  my  dying  moment,  and 
with  my  dying  breath,  I will  avow,  that  my  intentions  were  as  pure 
as  the  innocent  being  before  you.” 

“ Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  president,  solemnly,  “ the  enemies 
of  American  liberty  have  made  mighty  and  subtle  efforts  to  over- 
throw our  power.  A more  dangerous  man,  for  his  means  and  edu- 
cation, is  not  ranked  among  our  foes  than  this  pedler  of  West-Ches- 
ter.  He  is  a spy  — artful,  delusive,  and  penetrating,  beyond  the 
abilities  of  any  of  his  class.  Sir  Henry  could  not  do  better  than  to 
associate  him  with  the  officer  in  his  next  attempt.  He  would  have 
saved  Andre.  Indeed,  young  man,  this  is  a connection  that  may 
prove  fatal  to  you !” 

The  honest  indignation  that  beamed  on  the  countenance  of  the 
aged  warrior,  was  met  by  a look  of  perfect  conviction  on  the  part  of 
his  comrades. 

“ I have  ruined  him  !”  cried  Frances,  clasping  her  hands  in  ter- 
ror; “ do  you  desert  us  ? then  he  is  lost,  indeed !” 

“ Forbear  ! — lovely  innocent  — forbear  !”  said  the  colonel,  with 
strong  emotion;  “you  injure  none,  but  distress  us  all.” 

“ Is  it  then  such  a crime  to  possess  natural  affection  ?”  said  Fran- 
ces, wildly;  “would  Washington  — the  noble,  upright,  impartial 
Washington,  judge  so  harshly?  delay,  till  Washington  can  hear  his 
tale.” 

“ It  is  impossible,”  said  the  president,  covering  his  eyes,  as  if  to 
hide  her  beauty  from  his  view. 

“ Impossible  ! oh  ! but  for  a week  suspend  your  judgment.  On 
my  knees  I entreat  you,  as  you  will  expect  mercy  yourself,  when  no 
human  power  can  avail  you,  give  him  but  a day.” 

“ It  is  impossible,”  repeated  the  colonel,  in  a voice  that  wTas  nearly 
choked ; “ our  orders  are  peremptory,  and  too  long  delay  has  been 
given  already.” 

He  turned  from  the  kneeling  suppliant,  but  could  not,  or  would 
not,  extricate  the  hand  that  she  grasped  with  frenzied  fervour. 


352 


THE  SPY. 


“ Remand  your  prisoner/’  said  one  of  the  judges  to  the  officer 
who  had  the  charge  of  Henry  “ Colonel  Singleton,  shall  we 
withdraw  V ’ 

“ Singleton ! Singleton !”  echoed  Frances ; “ then  you  are  a 
father,  and  know  how  to  pity  a father’s  woes  : you  cannot,  will  not, 
wound  a heart  that  is  now  nearly  crushed.  Hear  me,  Colonel  Sin- 
gleton ; as  God  will  listen  to  your  dying  prayers,  hear  me,  and  spare 
my  brother !” 

“ Remove  her,”  said  the  colonel,  gently  endeavouring  to  extricate 
his  hand;  but  none  appeared  disposed  to  obey.  Frances  eagerly 
strove  to  read  the  expression  of  his  averted  face,  and  resisted  all  his 
efforts  to  retire. 

“ Colonel  Singleton ! how  lately  was  your  own  son  in  suffering 
and  in  danger  ! under  the  roof  of  my  father  he  was  cherished — under 
my  father’s  roof  he  found  shelter  and  protection.  Oh  ! suppose  that 
son  the  pride  of  your  age,  the  solace  and  protection  of  your  infant 
children,  and  then  pronounce  my  brother  guilty,  if  you  dare  !” 

“ What  right  has  Heath  to  make  an  executioner  of  me !”  ex- 
claimed the  veteran  fiercely,  rising  with  a face  flushed  like  fire,  and 
every  vein  and  artery  swollen  with  suppressed  emotion.  “ But  I 
forget  myself;  come,  gentlemen,  let  us  mount;  our  painful  duty 
must  be  done.” 

“ Mount  not ! go  not !”  shrieked  Frances ; “ can  you  tear  a son 
Prom  his  parent  ? a brother  from  his  sister,  so  coldly  ? Is  this  the 
cause  I have  so  ardently  loved  ? Are  these  the  men  that  I have 
been  taught  to  reverence  ? But  you  relent,  you  do  hear  me,  you 
will  pity  and  forgive.” 

“Lead  on,  gentlemen,”  said  the  colonel,  motioning  towards  the 
door,  and  erecting  himself  into  an  air  of  military  grandeur,  in  the 
vain  hope  of  quieting  his  feelings. 

“ Lead  not  on,  but  hear  me,”  cried  Frances,  grasping  his  hand 
convulsively ; “ Colonel  Singleton,  you  are  a father ! — pity  — mercy 
— mercy  for  the  son  ! mercy  for  the  daughter!  Yes  — you  had  a 


THE  SPY. 


353 


daughter.  On  this  bosom  she  poured  out  her  last  breath;  these 
hands  closed  her  eyes ; these  very  hands,  that  are  now  clasped  in 
prayer,  did  those  offices  for  her  that  you  condemn  my  poor,  poor 
brother,  to  require.” 

One  mighty  emotion  the  veteran  struggled  with,  and  quelled ; but 
with  a groan  that  shook  his  whole  frame.  He  even  looked  around 
in  conscious  pride  at  his  victory ; but  a second  burst  of  feeling  con- 
quered. His  head,  white  with  the  frost  of  seventy  winters,  sunk 
upon  the  shoulder  of  the  frantic  suppliant.  The  sword  that  had 
been  his  companion  in  so  many  fields  of  blood  dropped  from  hi3 
nerveless  hand,  and  as  he  cried  — 

“ May  God  bless  you  for  the  deed !”  he  wept  aloud. 

Long  and  violent  was  the  indulgence  that  Colonel  Singleton 
yielded  to  his  feelings.  On  recovering,  he  gave  the  senseless  Fran- 
ces into  the  arms  of  her  aunt,  and,  turning  with  an  air  of  fortitude 
to  his  comrades,  he  said  — 

u Still,  gentlemen,  we  have  our  duty  as  officers  to  discharge  ; — 
our  feelings  as  men  may  be  indulged  hereafter.  What  is  your  plea- 
sure with  the  prisoner?” 

One  of  the  judges  placed  in  his  hand  a written  sentence,  that  he 
had  prepared  while  the  colonel  was  engaged  with  Frances,  and  de- 
clared it  to  be  the  opinion  of  himself  and  his  companion. 

It  briefly  stated  that  Henry  Wharton  had  been  detected  in  passing 
the  lines  of  the  American  army  as  a spy,  and  in  disguise.  That 
thereby,  according  to  the  laws  of  war,  he  was  liable  to  suffer  death, 
and  that  this  court  adjudged  him  to  the  penalty ; recommending  him 
to  be  executed  by  hanging,  before  nine  o’clock  on  the  following 
morning. 

It  was  not  usual  to  inflict  capital  punishments,  even  on  the  enemy, 
without  referring  the  case  to  the  commander-in-chief,  for  his  appro- 
bation ; or,  in  his  absence,  to  the  officer  commanding  for  the  time 
being.  But,  as  Washington  held  his  head-quarters  at  New-Wind- 


354 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


sor,  on  tlie  western  bank  of  the  Hudson,  sufficient  time  was  yet  be- 
fore them  to  receive  his  answer. 

“This  is  short  notice/' ’ said  the  veteran,  holding  the  pen  in  his 
hand,  in  a suspense  that  had  no  object;  “not  a day  to  fit  one  so 
young  for  heaven?” 

“ The  royal  officers  gave  Hale*  but  an  hour,”  returned  his  com- 
rade; “we  have  granted  the  usual  time.  But  Washington  has  the 
power  to  extend  it,  or  to  pardon.” 

“ Then  to  Washington  will  I go,”  cried  the  Colonel,  returning  the 
paper  with  his  signature ; “ and  if  the  services  of  an  old  man  like 
me,  or  that  brave  boy  of  mine,  entitle  me  to  his  ear,  I will  yet  save 
the  youth.” 

So  saying,  he  departed,  full  of  his  generous  intentions  in  favour 
of  Henry  Wffiarton. 

The  sentence  of  the  court  was  communicated,  with  proper  tender- 
ness, to  the  prisoner ; and  after  giving  a few  necessary  instructions 
to  the  officer  in  command,  and  despatching  a courier  to  head-quarters 
with  their  report,  the  remaining  judges  mounted,  and  rode  to  their 
own  quarters,  with  the  same  unmoved  exterior,  but  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  same  dispassionate  integrity,  that  they  had  main- 
tained throughout  the  trial. 

* An  American  officer  of  this  name  was  detected  within  the  British  lines, 
in  disguise,  in  search  of  military  information.  He  was  tried  and  executed, 
as  stated  in  the  text,  as  soon  as  the  preparations  could  be  made.  It  is  said 
that  he  was  reproached  under  the  gallows  with  dishonouring  the  rank  he  held 
by  his  fate.  “What  a death  for  an  officer  to  die  !”  said  one  of  his  captors 
— “ Gentlemen,  any  death  is  honourable  when  a man  dies  in  a cause  like 
that  of  America,”  was  his  answer. 

Andre  was  executed  amid  the  tears  of  his  enemies ; Hale  died  unpitied, 
and  with  reproaches  in  his  ears  ; and  yet  one  was  the  victim  of  ambition,  and 
the  othei  of  devotion  to  his  country.  Posterity  will  do  justice  between  them. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


Have  you  no  countermand  for  Claudio  yet  1 
But  he  must  die  to-morrow  1 

Measure  for  Measure. 

A few  hours  were  passed  by  the  prisoner,  after  his  sentence  was 
received,  in  the  bosom  of  his  family.  Mr.  Wharton  wept  in  hope- 
less despondency  over  the  untimely  fate  of  his  son  ; and  Frances, 
after  recovering  from  her  insensibility,  experienced  an  anguish  of 
feeling  to  which  the  bitterness  of  death  itself  would  have  been  com- 
paratively light.  Miss  Peyton  alone  retained  a vestige  of  hope,  or 
presence  of  mind  to  suggest  what  might  be  proper  to  be  done  under 
their  circumstances.  The  comparative  composure  of  the  good  aunt 
arose  in  no  degree  from  any  want  of  interest  in  the  welfare  of  her 
nephew,  but  it  was  founded  in  a kind  of  instinctive  dependence  on 
the  character  of  Washington.  He  was  a native  of  the  same  colony 
with  herself ; and  although  his  early  military  services,  and  her  fre- 
quent visits  to  the  family  of  her  sister,  and  subsequent  establishment 
at  its  head,  had  prevented  their  ever  meeting,  still  she  was  familiar 
with  his  domestic  virtues,  and  well  knew  that  the  rigid  inflexibility 
for  which  his  public  acts  were  distinguished  formed  no  part  of  his 
reputation  in  private  life.  He  was  known  in  Virginia  as  a consis- 
tent, but  just  and  lenient  master ; and  she  felt  a kind  of  pride  in 
associating  in  her  mind  her  countryman  with  the  man  who  led  the 
armies,  and  in  a great  measure  controlled  the  destinies,  of  America. 
She  knew  that  Henry  was  innocent  of  the  crime  for  which  he  was 
condemned  to  suffer,  and,  with  that  kind  of  simple  faith  that  is  ever 


THE  SPY. 


&c>6 

to  be  found  in  the  most  ingenuous  characters,  could  not  conceive  of 
those  constructions  and  interpretations  of  law  that  inflicted  punish- 
ment without  the  actual  existence  of  crime.  But  even  her  confiding 
hopes  were  doomed  to  meet  with  a speedy  termination.  Towards 
noon,  a regiment  of  militia,  that  was  quartered  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  moved  up  to  the  ground  in  front  of  the  house  that  held  our 
heroine  and  her  family,  and  deliberately  pitched  their  tents,  with  the 
avowed  intention  of  remaining  until  the  following  morning,  to  give 
solemnity  and  effect  to  the  execution  of  a British  spy. 

Dunwoodie  had  performed  all  that  was  required  of  him  by  his 
orders,  and  was  at  liberty  to  retrace  his  steps  to  his  expecting  squad- 
ron, which  was  impatiently  waiting  his  return,  to  be  led  against  a 
detachment  of  the  enemy,  that  was  known  to  be  slowly  moving  up 
the  banks  of  the  river,  in  order  to  cover  a party  of  foragers  in  its 
rear.  He  was  accompanied  by  a small  party  of  Lawton’s  troop,  under 
the  expectation  that  their  testimony  might  be  required  to  convict  the 
prisoner;  and  Mason,  the  lieutenant,  was  in  command.  But  the 
confession  of  Captain  Wharton  had  removed  the  necessity  of  examin- 
ing any  witnesses  on  behalf  of  the  people.*  The  major,  from  an 
unwillingness  to  encounter  the  distress  of  Henry’s  friends,  and  a 
dread  of  trusting  himself  within  its  influence,  had  spent  the  time  we 
have  mentioned  in  walking  by  himself,  in  keen  anxiety,  at  a short 
distance  from  the  dwelling.  Like  Miss  Peyton,  he  had  some  reliance 
on  the  mercy  of  Washington,  although  moments  of  terrific  doubt  and 
despondency  were  continually  crossing  his  mind.  To  him  the  rules 
of  service  were  familiar,  and  he  was  more  accustomed  to  consider  his 
general  in  the  capacity  of  a ruler,  than  as  exhibiting  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  individual.  A dreadful  instance  had  too  recently 
occurred,  which  fully  proved  that  Washington  was  above  the  weak- 
ness of  sparing  another  in  mercy  to  himself.  While  pacing,  with 
hurried  steps,  through  the  orchard,  labouring  under  these  constantly 

* In  America,  justice  is  administered  in  the  name  of  “ the  good  people,” 
fcc.  &c. ; the  sovereignty  residing  w.ih  them. 


THE  SPY. 


357 


recurring  doubts,  enlivened  by  transient  rays  of  hope,  Mason  ap- 
proached, accoutred  completely  for  the  saddle. 

u Thinking  you  might  have  forgotten  the  news  brought  this  morn- 
ing from  below,  sir,  I have  taken  the  liberty  to  order  the  detachment 
under  arms/' ’ said  the  lieutenant,  very  coolly,  cutting  down  with  his 
sheathed  sabre  the  mullen  tops  that  grew  within  his  reach. 

“ What  news  V ’ cried  the  major,  starting. 

u Only  that  John  Bull  is  out  in  West-Chester,  with  a train  of 
waggons,  which  if  he  fills,  will  compel  us  to  retire  through  these 
cursed  hills,  in  search  of  provender.  These  greedy  Englishmen  are 
so  shut  up  on  York  Island,  that  when  they  do  venture  out,  they 
seldom  leave  straw  enough  to  furnish  the  bed  of  a Yankee  heiress.” 
“ Where  did  the  express  leave  them,  did  you  say  ? The  intelli- 
gence has  entirely  escaped  my  memory.” 

“ On  the  heights  above  Sing-Sing,”  returned  the  lieutenant,  with 
no  little  amazement.  u The  road  below  looks  like  a hay-market,  and 
all  the  swine  are  sighing  forth  their  lamentations,  as  the  corn  passes 
them  towards  Kingsbridge.  George  Singleton’s  orderly,  who  brought 
up  the  tidings,  says  that  our  horses  were  holding  consultation  if  they 
should  not  go  down  without  their  riders,  and  eat  another  meal,  for 
it  is  questionable  with  them  whether  they  can  get  a full  stomach 
again.  If  they  are  suffered  to  get  back  with  their  plunder,  we  shall 
not  be  able  to  find  a piece  of  pork  at  Christmas  fat  enough  to  fry 
itself.” 

“ Peace,  with  all  this  nonsense  of  Singleton’s  orderly,  Mr.  Mason,” 
cried  Dunwoodie,  impatiently ; “ let  him  learn  to  wait  the  orders  of 
his  superiors.” 

“I  beg  pardon  in  his  name,  Major  Dunwoodie,”  said  the  subal- 
tern; “but,  like  myself,  he  was  in  error.  We  both  thought  it  was 
the  order  of  General  Heath,  to  attack  and  molest  the  enemy  when- 
ever he  ventured  out  of  his  nest.” 

H Recollect  yourself,  Lieutenant  Mason,”  said  the  major,  “ or  I 
may  have  to  teach  you  that  your  orders  pass  through  me.” 


358 


THE  SPY. 


“ I know  it,  Major  Dunwoodie  — I know  it;  and  I am  sorry  that 
your  memory  is  so  bad  as  to  forget  that  I never  have  yet  hesitated 
to  obey  them.” 

“ Forgive  me,  Mason,”  cried  Dunwoodie,  taking  both  his  hands ; 
“ I do  know  you  for  a brave  and  obedient  soldier ; forget  my  hu- 
mour. But  this  business  — Had  you  ever  a friend  ?” 

“Nay,  nay,”  interrupted  the  lieutenant;  “forgive  me  and  my 
honest  zeal.  I knew  of  the  orders,  and  was  fearful  that  censure 
might  fall  on  my  officer.  But  remain,  and  let  a man  breathe  a 
syllable  against  the  corps,  and  every  sword  will  start  from  the  scab- 
bard of  itself;  besides,  they  are  still  moving  up,  and  it  is  a long 
road  from  Croton  to  Kingsbridge.  Happen  what  may,  I see  plainly 
that  we  shall  be  on  their  heels  before  they  are  housed  again.” 

“ Oh ! that  the  courier  was  returned  from  head-quarters !”  ex- 
claimed Dunwoodie.  “ This  suspense  is  insupportable.” 

“ You  have  your  wish,”  cried  Mason;  “ here  he  is  at  the  moment, 
and  riding  like  the  bearer  of  good  news.  God  send  it  may  be  so ; 
for  I can’t  say  that  I particularly  like  myself  to  see  a brave  young 
fellow  dancing  upon  nothing.” 

Dunwoodie  heard  but  very  little  of  this  feeling  declaration ; for, 
ere  half  of  it  was  uttered,  he  had  leaped  the  fence,  and  stood  before 
the  messenger. 

“What  news?”  cried  the  major,  the  moment  that  the  soldier 
stopped  his  horse. 

“ Good  !”  exclaimed  the  man ; and  feeling  no  hesitation  to  intrust 
an  officer  so  well  known  as  Major  Dunwoodie,  he  placed  the  paper 
in  his  hands,  as  he  added,  “ but  you  can  read  it,  sir,  for  yourself.” 
Dunwoodie  paused  not  to  read ; but  flew,  with  the  elastic  spring 
of  joy,  to  the  chamber  of  the  prisoner.  The  sentinel  knew  him,  and 
he  was  suffered  to  pass  without  question. 

“ Oh  ! Peyton,”  cried  Frances,  as  he  entered  the  apartment,  “ you 
look  like  a messenger  from  heaven  ! bring  you  tidings  of  mercy  ?” 
“Here,  Frances  — here,  Henry  — here,  dear  cousin  Jeanette/' 


THE  SPY. 


359 


cried  the  youth,  as  with  trembling  hands  he  broke  the  seal  ; “ here 
is  the  letter  itself,  directed  to  the  captain  of  the  guard.  But 
listen  — ! ” 

All  did  listen  with  intense  anxiety ; and  the  pang  of  blasted  hope 
was  added  to  their  misery,  as  they  saw  the  glow  of  delight  which  had 
beamed  on  the  countenance  of  the  major  give  place  to  a look  of 
horror.  The  paper  contained  the  sentence  of  the  court,  and  under- 
neath was  written  these  simple  words  — 

“ Approved  — Gteo.  Washington.” 

“ He  ’s  lost,  he  ’s  lost !”  cried  Frances,  sinking  into  the  arms  of 
her  aunt. 

“ My  son  ! my  son  !”  sobbed  the  father,  “ there  is  mercy  in  hea- 
ven, if  there  is  none  on  earth.  May  Washington  never  want  that 
mercy  he  thus  denies  to  my  innocent  child  !” 

“ Washington  !”  echoed  Bunwoodie,  gazing  around  him  in  vacant 
horror.  “ Yes,  ’tis  the  act  of  Washington  himself;  these  are  his 
characters;  his  very  name  is  here,  to  sanction  the  dreadful  deed.” 

“ Cruel,  cruel  Washington  !”  cried  Miss  Peyton;  “how  has  fami- 
liarity with  blood  changed  his  nature  !” 

“ Blame  him  not,”  said  Bunwoodie ; “ it  is  the  general,  and  not 
the  man ; my  life  on  it,  he  feels  the  blow  he  is  compelled  to  inflict.” 
“ I have  been  deceived  in  him,”  cried  Frances.  “ He  is  not  the 
saviour  of  his  country ; but  a cold  and  merciless  tyrant.  Oh  ! Pey- 
ton, Peyton  ! how  have  you  misled  me  in  his  character !” 

“Peace,  dear  Frances;  peace  for  God’s  sake;  use  not  such  lan- 
guage. He  is  but  the  guardian  of  the  law.” 

“ You  speak  the  truth,  Major  Bunwoodie,”  said  Henry,  recover- 
ing from  the  shock  of  having  his  last  ray  of  hope  extinguished,  and 
advancing  from  his  seat  by  the  side  of  his  father.  “ I,  who  am  to 
suffer,  blame  him  not.  Every  indulgence  has  been  granted  me  that 
I can  ask.  On  the  verge  of  the  grave,  I cannot  continue  unjust.  At 
such  a moment,  with  so  recent  an  instance  of  danger  to  your  cause 
from  treason,  I wonder  not  at  Washington’s  unbending  justice.  No 


360 


THE  SPY. 


thing  now  remains  but  to  prepare  for  that  fate  which  so  speedily 
awaits  me.  To  you,  Major  Dunwoodie,  I make  my  first  request.” 

“Name  it,”  said  the  major,  giving  utterance  with  difficulty. 

Henry  turned,  and  pointing  to  the  group  of  weeping  mourners 
near  him,  he  continued  — 

“ Be  a son  to  this  aged  man ; help  his  weakness,  and  defend  him 
from  any  usage  to  which  the  stigma  thrown  upon  me  may  subject 
him.  He  has  not  many  friends  amongst  the  rulers  of  this  country ; 
let  your  powerful  name  be  found  among  them.” 

“It  shall.” 

“ And  this  helpless  innocent,”  continued  Henry,  pointing  to  where 
Sarah  sat,  unconscious  of  what  was  passing,  — “ I had  hoped  for  an 
opportunity  to  revenge  her  wrongs ;”  a flush  of  excitement  passed 
over  his  features ; “ but  such  thoughts  are  evil  — I feel  them  to  be 
wrong.  Under  your  care,  Peyton,  she  will  find  sympathy  and  re- 
fuge.” 

u She  shall,”  whispered  Dunwoodie. 

“ This  good  aunt  has  claims  upon  you  already ; of  her  I will  not 
speak : but  here,”  taking  the  hand  of  Frances,  and  dwelling  upon 
her  countenance  with  an  expression  of  fraternal  affection  — “ here  is 
the  choicest  gift  of  all.  Take  her  to  your  bosom,  and  cherish  her  as 
you  would  cultivate  innocence  and  virtue.” 

The  major  could  not  repress  the  eagerness  with  which  he  extended 
his  hand  to  receive  the  precious  boon ; but  Frances,  shrinking  from 
his  touch,  hid  her  face  in  the  bosom  of  her  aunt. 

“ No,  no,  no !”  she  murmured ; “ none  can  ever  be  any  thing  to 
me  who  aid  in  my  brother’s  destruction.” 

Henry  continued  gazing  at  her  in  tender  pity  for  several  moments, 
before  he  again  resumed  a discourse  that  all  felt  was  most  peculiarly 
his  own. 

“ I have  been  mistaken,  then.  I did  think,  Peyton,  that  your 
worth,  your  noble  devotion  to  a cause  that  you  have  been  taught  to 
revere,  that  your  kindness  to  our  father  when  in  imprisonment,  your 


THE  SPY. 


361 


friendship  for  me, — in  short,  that  your  character  was  understood  and 
valued  by  my  sister.” 

“It  is  — it  is,”  whispered  Frances,  burying  her  face  still  deeper 
in  the  bosom  of  her  aunt. 

“ I believe,  dear  Henry,”  said  Funwoodie,  “ this  is  a subject  that 
had  better  not  be  dwelt  upon  now.” 

“You  forget,”  returned  the  prisoner,  with  a faint  smile,  “how 
much  I have  to  do,  and  how  little  time  is  left  to  do  it  in.” 

“I  apprehend,”  continued  the  major,  with  a face  of  fire,  “that 
Miss  Wharton  has  imbibed  some  opinions  of  me  that  would  make  a 
compliance  with  your  request  irksome  to  her  — opinions  that  it  is 
now  too  late  to  alter.” 

“No,  no.  no,”  cried  Frances,  quickly;  “you  are  exonerated, 
Peyton  — with  her  dying  breath  she  removed  my  doubts.” 

“ Generous  Isabella !”  murmured  Funwoodie ; “ but  still,  Henry, 
spare  your  sister  now ; nay,  spare  even  me.” 

“ I speak  in  pity  to  myself,”  returned  the  brother,  gently  removing 
Frances  from  the  arms  of  her  aunt.  “ What  a time  is  this  to  leave 
two  such  lovely  females  without  a protector ! — Their  abode  is 
destroyed,  and  misery  will  speedily  deprive  them  of  their  last  male 
friend,”  looking  at  his  father;  “can  I die  in  peace  with  the  know- 
ledge of  the  danger  to  which  they  will  be  exposed  ?” 

“You  forget  me,”  said  Miss  Peyton,  shrinking  at  the  idea  of 
celebrating  nuptials  at  such  a moment. 

“No,  my  dear  aunt,  I forget  you  not,  nor  shall  I,  until  I cease  to 
remember;  but  you  forget  the  times  and  the  danger.  The  good 
woman  who  lives  in  this  house  has  already  despatched  a messenger 
for  a man  of  God,  to  smooth  my  passage  to  another  world.  — 
Frances,  if  you  would  wish  me  to  die  in  peace,  to  feel  a security 
that  will  allow  me  to  turn  my  whole  thoughts  to  heaven,  you  will  let 
this  clergyman  unite  you  to  Funwoodie.” 

Frances  shook  her  head,  but  remained  silent. 

“I  ask  for  no  joy  — no  demonstration  of  a felicity  that  you  will 

16 


THE  Spy. 


/ 


362 

not,  cannot  feel,  for  months  to  come ; but  obtain  a right  to  his  power 
ful  name  — give  him  an  undisputed  title  to  protect  you  — ” 

Again  the  maid  made  an  impressive  gesture  of  denial. 

“ For  the  sake  of  that  unconscious  sufferer  — ” pointing  to  Sarah, 
“ for  your  sake  — for  my  sake  — my  sister  — ■” 

“ Peace,  Henry,  or  you  will  break  my  heart,”  cried  the  agitated 
girl;  “not  for  worlds  would  I at  such  a moment  engage  in  the 
solemn  vows  that  you  wish.  It  would  render  me  miserable  for  life.” 
“You  love  him  not,”  said  Henry,  reproachfully.  “I  cease  to 
importune  you  to  do  what  is  against  your  inclinations.” 

Frances  raised  one  hand  to  conceal  her  countenance,  as  she 
extended  the  other  towards  Dunwoodie,  and  said  earnestly  — 

“Now  you  are  unjust  to  me  — before,  you  were  unjust  to  your- 
self.” 

“Promise  me,  then,”  said  Wharton,  musing  awhile  in  silence, 
“ that  as  soon  as  the  recollection  of  my  fate  is  softened,  you  will  give 
my  friend  that  hand  for  life,  and  I am  satisfied.” 

“ I do  promise,”  said  Frances,  withdrawing  the  hand  that  Dun- 
woodie  delicately  relinquished,  without  even  presuming  to  press  it  to 
his  lips. 

“Well,  then,  my  good  aunt,”  continued  Henry,  “will  you  leave 
me  for  a short  time  alone  with  my  friend  ? I have  a few  melancholy 
commissions  with  which  to  intrust  him,  and  would  spare  you  and 
my  sister  the  pain  of  hearing  them.” 

“ There  is  yet  time  to  see  Washington  again,”  said  Miss  Peyton, 
moving  towards  the  door ; and  then,  speaking  with  extreme  dignity, 
she  continued  — “I  will  go  myself : surely  he  must  listen  to  a 
woman  from  his  own  colony ! — and  we  are  in  some  degree  con- 
nected with  his  family.” 

“ Why  not  apply  to  Mr.  Harper  ?”  said  Frances,  recollecting  the 
parting  words  of  their  guest  for  the  first  time. 

“ Harper !”  echoed  Dunwoodie,  turning  towards  her  with  the 
swiftness  of  lightning;  “what  of  him?  do  you  know  him?” 


THE  SPY. 


363 


“ It  is  in  vain/’  said  Henry,  drawing  him  aside ; “ Frances  clings 
co  hope  with  the  fondness  of  a sister.  Retire,  my  love,  and  leave 
me  with  my  friend.” 

But  Frances  read  an  expression  in  the  eye  of  Dunwoodie  that 
chained  her  to  the  spot.  After  struggling  to  command  her  feelings, 
she  continued  — 

“ He  stayed  with  us  for  two  days  — he  was  with  us  when  Henry 
was  arrested.” 

“And  — and  — did  you  know  him  ?” 

“ Nay,”  continued  Frances,  catching  her  breath  as  she  witnessed 
the  intense  interest  of  her  lover,  “ we  knew  him  not ; he  came  to  us 
in  the  night,  a stranger,  and  remained  with  us  during  the  severe 
storm ; but  he  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  Henry,  and  promised 
him  his  friendship.” 

“ What !”  exclaimed  the  youth,  in  astonishment ; “ did  he  know 
your  brother?” 

“ Certainly ; — it  was  at  his  request  that  Henry  threw  aside  his 
disguise.” 

“But,”  said  Dunwoodie,  turning  pale  with  suspense,  “he  knew 
him  not  as  an  officer  of  the  royal  army  ?” 

“Indeed  he  did,”  cried  Miss  Peyton;  “and  he  cautioned  us 
against  this  very  danger.” 

Dunwoodie  caught  up  the  fatal  paper,  that  still  lay  where  it  had 
fallen  from  his  own  hands,  and  studied  its  characters  intently.  Some- 
thing seemed  to  bewilder  his  brain.  He  passed  his  hand  over  his 
forehead,  while  each  eye  was  fixed  on  him  in  dreadful  suspense  — 
all  feeling  afraid  to  admit  those  hopes  anew  that  had  once  been  so 
sadly  destroyed. 

“ What  said  he  ? what  promised  he  ?”  at  length  Dunwoodie  asked, 
with  feverish  impatience. 

“ He  bid  Henry  apply  to  him  when  in  danger,  and  promised  to 
requite  the  son  for  the  hospitality  of  the  father.” 

“ Said  he  this,  knowing  him  to  be  a British  officer  ?” 


364 


THE  SPY. 


“ Most  certainly ; and  with  a view  to  this  very  danger/' 

“ Then/'  cried  the  youth  aloud,  and  yielding  to  his  rapture,  “ then 
you  are  safe  — then  will  I save  him ; yes,  Harper  will  never  forget 
his  word." 

“ But  has  he  the  power  ?"  said  Frances ; “ can  he  move  the  stub- 
born purpose  of  Washington?" 

“ Can  he  ! If  he  cannot,"  shouted  the  youth,  “ if  he  cannot,  who 
can  ? — Greene,  and  Heath,  and  young  Hamilton,  are  nothing,  com- 
pared to  this  Harper.  But,"  rushing  to  his  mistress,  and  pressing 
her  hands  convulsively,  “ repeat  to  me  — you  say  you  have  his  pro- 
mise ?" 

“ Surely,  surely,  Peyton ; — his  solemn,  deliberate  promise,  know- 
ing all  of  the  circumstances." 

“Best  easy,"  cried  Dunwoodie,  holding  her  to  his  bosom  for  a 
moment,  “rest  easy,  for  Henry  is  safe." 

He  waited  not  to  explain,  but  darting  from  the  room,  he  left  the 
family  in  amazement.  They  continued  in  silent  wonder  until  they 
heard  the  feet  of  his  charger,  as  he  dashed  from  the  door  with  the 
speed  of  an  arrow. 

A long  time  was  spent  after  this  abrupt  departure  of  the  youth, 
by  the  anxious  friends  he  had  left,  in  discussing  the  probability  of 
his  success.  The  confidence  of  his  manner  had,  however,  communi- 
cated to  his  auditors  something  of  his  own  spirit.  Each  felt  that 
the  prospects  of  Henry  were  again  brightening,  and  with  their  reviv- 
ing hopes  they  experienced  a renewal  of  spirits,  which  in  all  but 
Henry  himself  amounted  to  pleasure : with  him,  indeed,  his  state 
was  too  awful  to  admit  of  trifling,  and  for  a few  hours  he  was  con- 
demned to  feel  how  much  more  intolerable  was  suspense  than  even 
the  certainty  of  calamity.  Not  so  with  Frances.  She,  with  all  the 
reliance  of  affection,  reposed  in  security  on  the  assurance  of  Dun 
woodie,  without  harassing  herself  with  doubts  that  she  possessed  not 
the  means  of  satisfying;  but  believing  her  lover  able  to  accomplish 
every  thing  that  man  could  do,  and  retaining  a vivid  recollection  of 


THE  SPY. 


365 


the  manner  and  benevolent  appearance  of  Harper,  sbe  abandoned 
herself  to  all  the  felicity  of  renovated  hope. 

The  joy  of  Miss  Peyton  was  more  sobered,  and  she  took  frequent 
occasions  to  reprove  her  niece  for  the  exuberance  of  her  spirits,  be- 
fore there  was  a certainty  that  their  expectations  were  to  be  realised 
But  the  slight  smile  that  hovered  around  the  lips  of  the  virgin  con- 
tradicted the  very  sobriety  of  feeling  that  she  inculcated. 

“ Why,  dearest  aunt,”  said  Frances,  playfully,  in  reply  to  one  of 
her  frequent  reprimands,  “ would  you  have  me  repress  the  pleasure 
that  I feel  at  Henry’s  deliverance,  when  you  yourself  have  so  often 
declared  it  to  be  impossible  that  such  men  as  ruled  in  our  country 
could  sacrifice  an  innocent  man  ?” 

“Nay,  I did  believe  it  impossible,  my  child,  and  yet  think  so; 
but  still  there  is  a discretion  to  be  shown  in  joy  as  well  as  in  sor- 
row.” 

Frances  recollected  the  declaration  of  Isabella,  and  turned  an  eye 
filled  with  tears  of  gratitude  on  her  excellent  aunt,  as  she  replied  — - 

“ True  : but  there  are  feelings  that  will  not  yield  to  reason.  Ah ! 
here  are  those  monsters,  who  have  come  to  witness  the  death  of  a 
fellow-creature,  moving  around  yon  field,  as  if  life  was,  to  them, 
nothing  but  a military  show.” 

“ It  is  but  little  more  to  the  hireling  soldier,”  said  Henry,  endea- 
vouring to  forget  his  uneasiness. 

“ You  gaze,  my  love,  as  if  you  thought  a military  show  of  some 
importance,”  said  Miss  Peyton,  observing  her  niece  to  be  looking 
from  the  window  with  a fixed  and  abstracted  attention.  But  Frances 
answered  not. 

From  the  window  where  she  stood,  the  pass  that  they  had  tra- 
velled through  the  Highlands  was  easily  to  be  seen ; and  the  moun- 
tain which  held  on  its  summit  the  mysterious  hut  was  directly  before 
her.  Its  side  was  rugged  and  barren ; huge  and  apparently  impas- 
sable barriers  of  rocks  presenting  themselves  through  the  stunted 
oaks,  which,  stripped  of  their  foliage,  were  scattered  over  its  surface. 


366 


THE  SPY. 


The  base  of  the  hill  was  not  half  a mile  from  the  house,  and  the 
object  which  attracted  the  notice  of  Frances,  was  the  figure  of  a man 
emerging  from  behind  a rock  of  remarkable  formation,  and  as  sud- 
denly disappearing.  This  manoeuvre  was  several  times  repeated,  as 
if  it  were  the  intention  of  the  fugitive  (for  such  by  his  air  he  seemed 
to  be)  to  reconnoitre  the  proceedings  of  the  soldiery,  and  assure  him- 
self of  the  position  of  things  on  the  plain.  Notwithstanding  the 
distance,  Frances  instantly  imbibed  the  opinion  that  it  was  Birch. 
Perhaps  this  impression  was  partly  owing  to  the  air  and  figure  of  the 
man,  but  in  a great  measure  to  the  idea  that  presented  itself  on  for- 
merly beholding  the  object  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  That 
they  were  the  same  figure  she  was  confident,  although  this  wanted 
the  appearance  which,  in  the  other,  she  had  taken  for  the  pack  of 
the  pedler.  Harvey  had  so  connected  himself  with  the  mysterious 
deportment  of  Harper,  within  her  imagination,  that,  under  circum- 
stances of  less  agitation  than  those  in  which  she  had  laboured  since 
her  arrival,  she  would  have  kept  her  suspicions  to  herself.  Frances, 
therefore,  sat  ruminating  on  this  second  appearance  in  silence,  and 
endeavouring  to  trace  what  possible  connection  this  extraordinary 
man  could  have  with  the  fortunes  of  her  own  family.  Pie  had  cer- 
tainly saved  Sarah,  in  some  degree,  from  the  blow  that  had  partially 
alighted  on  her,  and  in  no  instance  had  he  proved  himself  to  be  hos- 
tile to  their  interests. 

After  gazing  for  a long  time  at  the  point  where  she  had  last  seen 
the  figure,  in  the  vain  expectation  of  its  re-appearance,  she  turned  to 
her  friends  in  the  apartment.  Miss  Peyton  was  sitting  by  Sarah, 
who  gave  some  slight  additional  signs  of  observing  what  passed,  but 
who  still  continued  insensible  either  to  joy  or  grief. 

u I suppose,  by  this  time,  my  love,  that  you  are  well  acquainted 
with  the  manoeuvres  of  a regiment,”  said  Miss  Peyton ; u it  is  no 
bad  quality  in  a soldier's  wife,  at  all  events.” 

“ I am  not  a wife  yet,”  said  Frances,  colouring  to  the  eyes ; “ and 
we  have  little  reason  to  wish  for  another  wedding  in  our  family.” 


THE  SPY. 


367 


u Frances !”  exclaimed  her  brother,  starting  from  his  seat,  and 
pacing  the  floor  in  violent  agitation,  u touch  not  the  chord  again,  I 
entreat  you.  While  my  fate  is  uncertain,  I would  wish  to  be  at 
peace  with  all  men.” 

“ Then  let  the  uncertainty  cease,”  cried  Frances,  springing  to  the 
door,  u for  here  comes  Peyton  with  the  joyful  intelligence  of  your 
release.” 

The  words  were  hardly  uttered,  before  the  door  opened,  and  the 
Major  entered.  In  his  air  there  was  the  appearance  of  neither  suc- 
cess, nor  defeat,  but  there  was  a marked  display  of  vexation.  He 
took  the  hand  that  Frances,  in  the  fulness  of  her  heart,  extended 
towards  him,  but  instantly  relinquishing  it,  threw  himself  into  a 
chair,  in  evident  fatigue. 

u You  have  failed,”  said  Wharton,  with  a bound  of  his  heart,  but 
an  appearance  of  composure. 

u Have  you  seen  Harper  ?”  cried  Frances,  turning  pale. 

“ I have  not ) I crossed  the  river  in  one  boat  as  he  must  have 
been  coming  to  this  side,  in  another.  I returned  without  delay,  and 
traced  him  for  several  miles  into  the  Highlands,  by  the  western  pass, 
but  there  I unaccountably  lost  him.  I have  returned  here  to  relieve 
your  uneasiness ; but  see  him  I will  this  night,  and  bring  a respite 
for  Henry.” 

“ But  saw  you  Washington?”  asked  Miss  Peyton. 

Dunwoodie  gazed  at  her  a moment  in  abstracted  musing,  and  the 
question  was  repeated.  He  answered  gravely,  and  with  some  re- 
serve — 

u The  Commander-in-chief  had  left  his  quarters.” 

“ But,  Peyton,”  cried  Frances,  in  returning  terror,  u if  they  should 
not  see  each  other,  it  will  be  too  late.  Harper  alone  will  not  be 
sufficient.” 

Her  lover  turned  his  eyes  slowly  on  her  anxious  countenance,  and 
dwelling  a moment  on  her  features,  said,  still  musing  — 

“ You  say  that  he  promised  to  assist  Henry.” 


368 


THE  SPY. 


u Certainly,  of  his  own  accord,  and  in  requital  for  the  hospitalitj 
he  had  received.” 

Dunwoodie  shook  his  head,  and  began  to  look  grave. 
u I like  not  that  word  hospitality  — it  has  an  empty  sound ; there 
must  be  something  more  reasonable  to  tie  Harper.  I dread  some 
mistake  : repeat  to  me  all  that  passed.” 

Frances,  in  a hurried  and  earnest  voice,  complied  with  his  re- 
quest. She  related  particularly  the  manner  of  his  arrival  at  the 
Locusts,  the  reception  that  he  received,  and  the  events  that  passed, 
as  minutely  as  her  memory  could  supply  her  with  the  means.  As 
she  alluded  to  the  conversation  that  occurred  between  her  father  and 
his  guest,  the  Major  smiled,  but  remained  silent.  She  then  gave  a 
detail  of  Henry’s  arrival,  and  the  events  of  the  following  day.  She 
dwelt  upon  the  part  where  Harper  had  desired  her  brother  to  throw 
aside  his  disguise,  and  recounted,  with  wonderful  accuracy,  his  re- 
marks upon  the  hazard  of  the  step  that  the  youth  had  taken.  She 
even  remembered  a remarkable  expression  of  his  to  her  brother, 
u that  he  was  safer  from  Harper’s  knowledge  of  his  person,  than  he 
would  be  without  it.”  Frances  mentioned,  with  the  warmth  of 
youthful  admiration,  the  benevolent  character  of  his  deportment  to 
herself,  and  gave  a minute  relation  of  his  adieus  to  the  whole 
family. 

Dunwoodie  at  first  listened  with  grave  attention ; evident  satisfac- 
tion followed  as  she  proceeded.  When  she  spoke  of  herself,  in  con- 
nection with  their  guest,  he  smiled  with  pleasure,  and  as  she  concluded 
he  exclaimed,  with  delight  — 

“We  are  safe!  — we  are  safe!” 

But  he  was  interrupted,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


The  owlet  loves  the  gloom  of  night, 

The  lark  salutes  the  day, 

The  timid  dove  will  coo  at  hand  — 

But  falcons  soar  away. 

Song  in  Duo. 

In  a country  settled,  like  these  states,  by  a people  who  fled  then- 
native  land  and  much-loved  firesides,  victims  of  consciences  and 
religious  zeal,  none  of  the  decencies  and  solemnities  of  a Christian 
death  are  dispensed  with,  when  circumstances  will  admit  of  their 
exercise.  The  good  woman  of  the  house  was  a strict  adherent  to  the 
forms  of  the  church  to  which  she  belonged ; and  having  herself  been 
awakened  to  a sense  of  her  depravity,  by  the  ministry  of  the  divine 
who  harangued  the  people  of  the  adjoining  parish,  she  thought  it 
was  from  his  exhortations  only  that  salvation  could  be  meted  out  to 
the  short-lived  hopes  of  Henry  Wharton.  Not  that  the  kind-hearted 
matron  was  so  ignorant  of  the  doctrines  of  the  religion  which  she 
professed,  as  to  depend,  theoretically,  on  mortal  aid  for  protection ; 
but  she  had,  to  use  her  own  phrase,  u sat  so  long  under  the  preach- 
ing of  good  Mr. ,”  that  she  had  unconsciously  imbibed  a 

practical  reliance  on  his  assistance,  for  that  which  her  faith  should 
have  taught  her  could  come  from  the  Deity  alone.  With  her,  the 
consideration  of  death  was  at  all  times  awful;  and  the  instant  that 
the  sentence  of  the  prisoner  was  promulgated,  she  despatched  Caesar, 
mounted  on  one  of  her  husband's  best  horses,  in  quest  of  her  clerical 
monitor.  This  step  had  been  taken  without  consulting  either  Henry 
or  his  friends ; and  it  was  only  when  the  services  of  Caesar  were 

16* 


370 


THE  SPY. 


required  on  some  domestic  emergency,  that  she  explained  the  nature 
of  his  absence.  The  youth  heard  her,  at  first,  with  an  unconquer- 
able reluctance  to  admit  of  such  a spiritual  guide ; but  as  our  view 
of  the  things  of  this  life  becomes  less  vivid,  our  prejudices  and  habits 
cease  to  retain  their  influence ; and  a civil  bow  of  thanks  was  finally 
given,  in  requital  for  the  considerate  care  of  the  well-meaning  woman. 

The  black  returned  early  from  his  expedition,  and,  as  well  as  could 
be  gathered  from  his  somewhat  incoherent  narrative,  a minister  of 
G-od  might  be  expected  to  arrive  in  the  course  of  the  day.  The  in- 
terruption that  we  mentioned  in  our  preceding  chapter  was  occasioned 
by  the  entrance  of  the  landlady.  At  the  intercession  of  Dunwoodie, 
orders  had  been  given  to  the  sentinel  who  guarded  the  door  of  Henry’s 
room,  that  the  members  of  the  prisoner’s  family  should,  at  all  times, 
have  free  access  to  his  apartment : Caesar  was  included  in  this  arrange- 
ment, as  a matter  of  convenience,  by  the  officer  in  command ; but 
strict  enquiry  and  examination  was  made  into  the  errand  of  every 
other  applicant  for  admission.  The  Major  had,  however,  included 
himself  among  the  relatives  of  the  British  officer;  and  one  pledge, 
that  no  rescue  should  be  attempted,  was  given  in  his  name,  for  them 
all.  A short  conversation  was  passing  between  the  woman  of  the 
house  and  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  before  the  door  that  the  sentinel 
had  already  opened  in  anticipation  of  the  decision  of  his  non-com- 
missioned commandant. 

“ Would  you  refuse  the  consolations  of  religion  to  a fellow-crea 
ture  about  to  suffer  death  ?”  said  the  matron,  with  earnest  zeal. 
u Would  you  plunge  a soul  into  the  fiery  furnace,  and  a minister  at 
hand  to  point  out  the  strait  and  narrow  path  ?” 

u I ’ll  tell  you  what,  good  woman,”  returned  the  corporal,  gently 
pushing  her  away ; u I ’ve  no  notion  of  my  back  being  a highway 
for  any  man  to  walk  to  heaven  upon.  A pretty  figure  I should 
make  at  the  pickets,  for  disobeying  orders.  J ust  step  down  and  ask 
Lieutenant  Mason,  and  you  may  bring  in  the  whole  congregation. 
We  have  not  taken  the  guard  from  the  foot-soldiers,  but  an  hour, 


THE  S P V . 


371 


and  I shouldn’t  like  to  have  it  said  that  we  know  less  of  our  duty 
than  the  militia.” 

“ Admit  the  woman/’  said  Dunwoodie,  sternly,  observing,  for  the 
first  time,  that  one  of  his  own  corps  was  on  post. 

The  corporal  raised  his  hand  to  his  cap,  and  fell  back  in  silence ; 
the  soldier  stood  to  his  arms,  and  the  matron  entered. 

u Here  is  a reverend  gentleman  below,  come  to  soothe  the  parting 
soul,  in  the  place  of  our  own  divine,  who  is  engaged  with  an  appoint- 
ment that  could  not  be  put  aside;  ’tis  to  bury  old  Mr. .” 

“ Show  him  in,”  said  Henry,  with  feverish  impatience. 

“ But  will  the  sentinel  let  him  pass  ? I would  not  wish  a friend  of 

Mr. to  be  rudely  stopped  on  the  threshold,  and  he  a stranger.” 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  on  Dunwoodie,  who,  looking  at  his 
watch,  spoke  a few  words  with  Henry,  in  an  under  tone,  and  hastened 
from  the  apartment,  followed  by  Frances.  The  subject  of  their  con- 
versation was  a wish  expressed  by  tlm  prisoner  for  a clergyman  of  his 
own  persuasion,  and  a promise  from  the  Major,  that  one  should  be 
sent  from  Fishkill  town,  through  which  he  was  about  to  pass,  on  his 
way  to  the  ferry  to  intercept  the  expected  return  of  Harper.  Mason 
soon  made  his  bow  at  the  door,  and  willingly  complied  with  the 
wishes  of  the  landlady;  and  the  divine  was  invited  to  make  his  ap- 
pearance accordingly. 

The  person  who  was  ushered  into  the  apartment,  preceded  by 
Caesar,  and  followed  by  the  matron,  was  a man  beyond  the  middle 
age,  or  who  might  rather  be  said  to  approach  the  downhill  of  life. 
In  stature  he  was  above  the  size  of  ordinary  men,  though  his  exces- 
sive leanness  might  contribute  in  deceiving  as  to  his  height;  his 
countenance  was  sharp  and  unbending,  and  every  muscle  seemed  set 
in  rigid  compression.  No  joy,  or  relaxation,  appeared  ever  to  have 
dwelt  on  features  that  frowned  habitually,  as  if  in  detestation  of  the 
vices  of  mankind.  The  brows  were  beetling,  dark,  and  forbidding, 
giving  the  promise  of  eyes  of  no  less  repelling  expression ; but  the 
organs  were  concealed  beneath  a pair  of  enormous  green  goggles, 


372 


THE  SPY. 


through  which  they  glared  around  with  a fierceness  that  denounced 
the  coming  day  of  wrath.  All  was  fanaticism,  uncharitableness,  and 
denunciation.  Long,  lank  hair,  a mixture  of  grey  and  black,  fell 
down  his  neck,  and  in  some  degree  obscured  the  sides  of  his  face, 
and,  parting  on  his  forehead,  fell  in  either  direction  in  straight  and 
formal  screens.  On  the  top  of  this  ungraceful  exhibition  was  laid, 
impending  forward,  so  as  to  overhang  in  some  measure  the  whole 
fabric,  a large  hat  of  three  equal  cocks.  His  coat  was  of  a rusty 
black,  and  his  breeches  and  stockings  were  of  the  same  colour ; his 
shoes  without  lustre,  and  half  concealed  beneath  huge  plated  buckles. 

He  stalked  into  the  room,  and  giving  a stiff  nod  with  his  head, 
took  the  chair  offered  him  by  the  black,  in  dignified  silence.  For 
several  minutes  no  one  broke  this  ominous  pause  in  the  conversation ; 
Henry  feeling  a repugnance  to  his  guest,  that  he  was  vainly  endea- 
vouring to  conquer,  and  the  stranger  himself  drawing  forth  occa- 
sional sighs  and  groans,  that  threatened  a dissolution  of  the  unequal 
connection  between  his  sublimated  soul  and  its  ungainly  tenement 
During  this  deathlike  preparation,  Mr.  Wharton,  with  a feeling 
nearly  allied  to  that  of  his  son,  led  Sarah  from  the  apartment.  His 
retreat  was  noticed  by  the  divine,  in  a kind  of  scornful  disdain,  who 
began  to  hum  the  air  of  a popular  psalm  tune,  giving  it  the  full 
richness  of  the  twang  that  distinguishes  the  Eastern*  psalmody. 

“ Caesar,”  said  Miss  Peyton,  “ hand  the  gentleman  some  refresh- 
ment; he  must  need  it  after  his  ride.” 

“ My  strength  is  not  in  the  things  of  life,”  said  the  divine,  speak- 
ing in  a hollow,  sepulchral  voice.  “ Thrice  have  I this  day  held 
forth  in  my  master’s  service,  and  fainted  not;  still  it  is  prudent  to 
help  this  frail  tenement  of  clay,  for,  surely,  ‘ the  labourer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire/” 

Opening  a pair  of  enormous  jaws,  he  took  a good  measure  of  the 

* By  “ Eastern”  is  meant  the  states  of  New  England,  which,  being  origi- 
nally settled  by  Puritans,  still  retain  many  distinct  shades  of  character. 


THE  SPY. 


SIS 


proffered  brandy,  and  suffered  it  to  glide  downwards,  with  that  sort 
of  facility  with  which  man  is  prone  to  sin. 

u I apprehend,  then,  sir,  that  fatigue  will  disable  you  from  per- 
forming the  duties,  which  kindness  has  induced  you  to  attempt.” 

“ Woman!”  exclaimed  the  stranger,  with  energy,  u when  was  1 
ever  known  to  shrink  from  a duty?  But  c judge  not,  lest  ye  be 
judged/  and  fancy  not  that  it  is  given  to  mortal  eyes  to  fathom  the 
intentions  of  the  Deity.” 

“ Nay,”  returned  the  maiden,  meekly,  and  slightly  disgusted  with 
his  jargon,  “ I pretend  not  to  judge  of  either  events,  or  the  inten- 
tions of  my  fellow-creatures,  much  less  of  those  of  Omnipotence.” 

“*Tis  well,  woman  — Tis  well,”  cried  the  minister,  waving  his 
head  with  supercilious  disdain ; “ humility  becometh  thy  sex,  and 
lost  condition ; thy  weakness  driveth  thee  on  headlong,  like  c unto 
the  besom  of  destruction/  ” 

Surprised  at  this  extraordinary  deportment,  but  yielding  to  that 
habit  which  urges  us  to  speak  reverently  on  sacred  subjects,  even 
when  perhaps  we  had  better  continue  silent,  Miss  Peyton  re- 
plied — 

u There  is  a power  above,  that  can  and  will  sustain  us  all  in  well- 
doing, if  we  seek  its  support  in  humility  and  truth.” 

The  stranger  turned  a lowering  look  at  the  speaker,  and  then 
composing  himself  into  an  air  of  self-abasement,  he  continued  in  the 
same  repelling  tones  — 

“It  is  not  every  one  that  crieth  out  for  mercy,  that  will  be  heard. 
The  ways  of  Providence  are  not  to  be  judged  by  men  — ‘ Many  are 
called,  but  few  chosen/  It  is  easier  to  talk  of  humility,  than  to  feel 
it.  Are  you  so  humble,  vile  worm,  as  to  wish  to  glorify  Grod  by 
your  own  damnation  ? If  not,  away  with  you  for  a publican  and  a 
pharisee !” 

Such  gross  fanaticism  was  uncommon  in  America,  and  Miss  Pey- 
ton began  to  imbibe  the  impression  that  her  guest  was  deranged ; 
but  remembering  that  he  had  been  sent  by  a well-known  divine,  and 


374 


THE  SPY. 


one  of  reputation,  she  discarded  the  idea,  and,  with  some  forbear, 
ance,  observed  — 

“ I may  deceive  myself,  in  believing  that  mercy  is  proffered  tc 
all,  but  it  is  so  soothing  a doctrine,  that  I would  not  willingly  be 
undeceived/7 

“ Mercy  is  only  for  the  elect/7  cried  the  stranger,  with  an  unac- 
countable energy;  “and  you  are  in  the  1 valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death.7  Are  you  not  a follower  of  idle  ceremonies,  which  belong  to 
the  vain  church,  that  our  tyrants  would  gladly  establish  here,  along 
with  their  stamp-acts  and  tea-laws  ? Answer  me  that,  woman ; and 
remember,  that  Heaven  hears  your  answer : are  you  not  of  that 
idolatrous  communion  ?77 

“ I worship  at  the  altars  of  my  fathers,77  said  Miss  Peyton,  mo- 
tioning to  Henry  for  silence ; “ but  bow  to  no  other  idol  than  my 
own  infirmities/7 

“Yes,  yes,  I know  ye,  self-righteous  and  papal  as  ye  are — fol- 
lowers of  forms,  and  listeners  to  bookish  preaching;  think  you, 
woman,  that  holy  Paul  had  notes  in  his  hand  to  propound  the  word 
to  the  believers?77 

“ My  presence  disturbs  you,77  said  Miss  Peyton,  rising : “ I will 
leave  you  with  my  nephew,  and  offer  those  prayers  in  private  that  I 
did  wish  to  mingle  with  his.77 

So  saying,  she  withdrew,  followed  by  the  landlady,  who  was  not  a 
little  shocked,  and  somewhat  surprised,  by  the  intemperate  zeal  of 
her  new  acquaintance ; for,  although  the  good  woman  believed  that 
Miss  Peyton  and  her  whole  church  were  on  the  high  road  to  destruc- 
tion, she  was  by  no  means  accustomed  to  hear  such  offensive  and 
open  avowals  of  their  fate. 

Henry  had  with  difficulty  repressed  the  indignation  excited  by 
this  unprovoked  attack  on  his  meek  and  unresisting  aunt;  but  as 
the  door  closed  on  her  retiring  figure,  he  gave  way  to  his  feelings  — 

“ I must  confess,  sir,77  he  exclaimed  with  heat,  “ that  in  receiving 
a minister  of  God,  I thought  I was  admitting  a Christian  ; and  one 


THE  S P V . 


37o 


who,  by  feeling  his  own  weaknesses,  knew  how  to  pity  the  frailties 
of  others.  You  have  wounded  the  meek  spirit  of  an  excellent  woman, 
and  I acknowledge  but  little  inclination  to  mingle  in  prayer  with  so 
intolerant  a spirit.” 

The  minister  stood  erect,  with  grave  composure,  following  with  his 
eyes,  in  a kind  of  scornful  pity,  the  retiring  females,  and  suffered 
the  expostulation  of  the  youth  to  be  given,  as  if  unworthy  of  his 
notice.  A third  voice,  however,  spoke  — 

“ Such  a denunciation  would  have  driven  many  women  into  fits ; 
but  it  has  answered  the  purpose  well  enough,  as  it  is.” 

u Who  ?s  that  ?”  cried  the  prisoner,  in  amazement,  gazing  around 
the  room  in  quest  of  the  speaker  — 

“It  is  I,  Captain  Wharton,”  said  Harvey  Birch,  removing  the 
spectacles,  and  exhibiting  his  piercing  eyes,  shining  under  a pair  of 
false  eye-brows. 

“ Good  Heavens  — Harvey  !” 

“ Silence !”  said  the  pedler,  solemnly;  “’tis  a name  not  to  be 
mentioned,  and  least  of  all  here,  within  the  heart  of  the  American 
army.”  Birch  paused  and  gazed  around  him  for  a moment,  with  an 
emotion  exceeding  the  base  passion  of  fear,  and  then  continued  in  a 
gloomy  tone,  “ There  are  a thousand  halters  in  that  very  name,  and 
little  hope  would  there  be  left  me  of  another  escape,  should  I be 
again  taken.  This  is  a fearful  venture  that  I am  making;  but  I 
could  not  sleep  in  quiet,  and  know  that  an  innocent  man  was  about 
to  die  the  death  of  a dog,  when  I might  save  him.” 

“No,”  said  Henry,  with  a glow  of  generous  feeling  on  his  cheek ; 
“ if  the  risk  to  yourself  be  so  heavy,  retire  as  you  came,  and  leave 
me  to  my  fate.  Dunwoodie  is  making,  even  now,  powerful  exertions 
in  my  behalf ; and  if  he  meets  with  Mr.  Harper  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  my  liberation  is  certain.” 

“ Harper !”  echoed  the  pedler,  remaining  with  his  hands  raised, 
in  the  act  of  replacing  the  spectacles ; “ what  do  you  know  of  Har- 
per ? and  why  do  you  think  he  will  do  you  service  ?” 


37(3 


THE  SPY. 


u I have  his  promise ; — you  remember  our  recent  meeting  in  my 
father’s  dwelling,  and  he  then  gave  an  unasked  promise  to  assist 
me.” 

“ Yes  — but  do  you  know  him?  that  is  — why  do  you  think  he 
has  the  power  ? or  what  reason  have  you  for  believing  he  will  re- 
member his  word?” 

u If  there  ever  was  the  stamp  of  truth,  or  simple,  honest  benevo- 
lence, in  the  countenance  of  man,  it  shone  in  his,”  said  Henry; 
“ besides,  Dunwoodie  has  powerful  friends  in  the  rebel  army,  and  it 
would  be  better  that  I take  the  chance  where  I am,  than  thus  to 
expose  you  to  certain  death,  if  detected.” 

u Captain  Wharton,”  said  Birch,  looking  guardedly  around,  and 
speaking  with  impressive  seriousness  of  manner,  “ if  I fail  you,  all 
fail  you.  No  Harper  nor  Dunwoodie  can  save  your  life;  unless  you 
get  out  with  me,  and  that  within  the  hour,  you  die  to-morrow  on  the 
gallows  of  a murderer.  Yes,  such  are  their  laws;  the  man  who 
fights,  and  kills,  and  plunders,  is  honoured ; but  he  who  serves  his 
country  as  a spy,  no  matter  how  faithfully,  no  matter  how  honestly, 
lives  to  be  reviled,  or  dies  like  the  vilest  criminal !” 

u You  forget,  Mr.  Birch,”  said  the  youth,  a little  indignantly, 
“ that  I am  not  a treacherous,  lurking  spy,  who  deceives  to  betray ; 
but  innocent  of  the  charge  imputed  to  me.” 

The  blood  rushed  over  the  pale,  meagre  features  of  the  pedler, 
until  his  face  was  one  glow  of  fire ; but  it  passed  quickly  away,  and 
he  replied  — 

u I have  told  you  truth.  Caesar  met  me,  as  he  was  going  on  his 
errand  this  morning,  and  with  him  I have  laid  the  plan  which,  if 
executed  as  I wish,  will  save  you  — otherwise  you  are  lost ; and  I 
again  tell  you,  that  no  other  power  on  earth,  not  even  Washington, 
can  save  you.” 

u I submit,”  said  the  prisoner,  yielding  to  his  earnest  manner,  and 
goaded  by  the  fears  that  were  thus  awakened  anew. 

The  pedler  beckoned  him  to  be  silent  and  walking  to  the  door, 


THE  SPY. 


377 


opened  it,  with  the  stiff,  formal  air,  with  which  he  had  entered  the 
apartment. 

“ Friend,  let  no  one  enter,”  he  said  to  the  sentinel;  “we  are 
about  to  go  to  prayer,  and  would  wish  to  be  alone.” 

“ I don’t  know  that  any  will  wish  to  interrupt  you,”  returned  the 
soldier,  with  a waggish  leer  of  his  eye ; “ but,  should  they  be  so 
disposed,  I have  no  power  to  stop  them,  if  they  be  of  the  prisoner’s 
friends;  I have  my  orders,  and  must  mind  them,  whether  the  Eng- 
lishman goes  to  heaven,  or  not.” 

“ Audacious  sinner !”  said  the  pretended  priest,  “ have  you  not 
the  fear  of  God  before  your  eyes ! I tell  you,  as  you  will  dread 
punishment  at  the  last  day,  to  let  none  of  the  idolatrous  communion 
enter,  to  mingle  in  the  prayers  of  the  righteous.” 

“ Whew  — ew  — ew  — what  a noble  commander  you  ’d  make  for 
Sergeant  Hollister  ! you ’d  preach  him  dumb  in  a roll-call.  Hark’ee, 
I ’ll  thank  you  not  to  make  such  a noise  when  you  hold  forth,  as  to 
drown  our  bugles,  or  you  may  get  a poor  fellow  a short  horn  at  his 
grog,  for  not  turning  out  to  the  evening  parade : if  you  want  to  be 
alone,  have  you  no  knife  to  stick  over  the  door-latch,  that  you  must 
have  a troop  of  horse  to  guard  your  meeting-house  ?” 

The  pedler  took  the  hint,  and  closed  the  door  immediately,  using 
the  precaution  suggested  by  the  dragoon. 

“ You  overact  your  part,”  said  young  Wharton,  in  constant  appre- 
hension of  discovery ; “ your  zeal  is  too  intemperate.” 

“For  a foot-soldier  and  them  Eastern  militia,  it  might  be,”  said 
Harvey,  turning  a bag  upside  down,  that  Caesar  now  handed  him ; 
“ but  these  dragoons  are  fellows  that  you  must  brag  down.  A faint 
heart,  Captain  Wharton,  would  do  but  little  here ; but  come,  here  is 
a black  shroud  for  your  good-looking  countenance,”  taking,  at  the 
same  time,  a parchment  mask,  and  fitting  it  to  the  face  of  Henry. 
“ The  master  and  the  man  must  change  places  for  a season.” 

“ I don’t  tink  he  look  a bit  like  me,”  said  Caesar,  with  disgust,  as 
he  surveyed  his  young  master  with  his  new  complexion. 


378 


/l 


THE  SPY. 

“ Stop  a minute,  Caesar/' * said  the  pedler,  with  the  lurking  drol- 
lery that  at  times  formed  part  of  his  manner,  “ till  we  get  on  the 
wool/’ 

“ He  worse  than  ebber  now,”  cried  the  discontented  African.  “ A 
tint  coloured  man  like  a sheep  ! I nebber^see  sich  a lip,  Harvey; 
he  most  as  big  as  a sausage  !” 

Great  pains  had  been  taken  in  forming  the  different  articles  used 
in  the  disguise  of  Captain  Wharton,  and  when  arranged,  under  the 
skilful  superintendence  of  the  pedler,  they  formed  together  a trans- 
formation that  would  easily  escape  detection,  from  any  but  an  extra- 
ordinary observer. 

The  mask  was  stuffed  and  shaped  in  such  a manner  as  to  preserve 
the  peculiarities,  as  well  as  the  colour,  of  the  African  visage ; and 
the  wig  was  so  artfully  formed  of  black  and  white  wool,  as  to  imitate 
the  pepper-and-salt  colour  of  Caesar’s  own  head,  and. to  exact  plaudits 
from  the  black  himself,  who  thought  it  an  excellent  counterfeit  in 
every  thing  but  quality. 

“ There  is  but  one  man  in  the  American  army  who  could  detect 
you,  Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  pedler,  surveying  his  work  with 
satisfaction,  “ and  he  is  just  now  out  of  our  way.” 

“And  who  is  he?” 

“ The  man  who  made  you  prisoner.  He  would  see  your  white 
skin  through  a plank.  But  strip,  both  of  you ; your  clothes  must 
be  exchanged  from  head  to  foot/'' 

Caesar,  who  had  received  minute  instructions  from  the  pedler  in 
their  morning  interview,  immediately  commenced  throwing  aside 
his  coarse  garments,  which  the  youth  took  up  and  prepared  to 
invest  himself  with;  unable,  however,  to  repress  a few  signs  of 
loathing. 

In  the  manner  of  the  pedler  there  was  an  odd  mixture  of  care 
and  humour ; the  former  was  the  result  of  a perfect  knowledge  of 
their  danger,  and  the  means  necessary  to  be  used  in  avoiding  it ; and 
the  latter  proceeded  from  the  unavoidably  ludicrous  circumstances 


THE  SPY, 


3 7 *? 

before  him,  acting  on  an  indifference  which  sprung  from  habit,  and 
long  familiarity  with  such  scenes  as  the  present. 

“ Here,  Captain,”  he  said,  taking  up  some  loose  wool,  and  begin- 
ning to  stuff  the  stockings  of  Caesar,  which  were  already  on  the  leg 
of  the  prisoner ; “ some  judgment  is  necessary  in  shaping  this  limb. 
You  will  have  to  display  it  on  horseback;  and  the  southern  dragoons 
are  so  used  to  the  brittle-shins,  that  should  they  notice  your  well- 
turned  calf,  they  ’d  know  at  once  it  never  belonged  to  a black.” 

“ Golly !”  said  Caesar,  with  a chuckle,  that  exhibited  a mouth 
open  from  ear  to  ear,  “ massy  Harry  breeches  fit.” 

“Any  thing  but  your  leg,”  said  the  pedler,  coolly  pursuing  the 
toilet  of  Henry.  “ Slip  on  the  coat,  Captain,  over  all.  Upon  my 
word,  you  ’d  pass  well  at  a pinkster  frolic ; and  here,  Caesar,  place 
this  powdered  wig  over  your  curls,  and  be  careful  and  look  out  of  the 
window,  whenever  the  door  is  open,  and  on  no  account  speak,  or  you 
will  betray  all.” 

“ I s’pose  Harvey  tink  a color’d  man  an’t  got  a tongue  like  oder 
folk,”  grumbled  the  black,  as  he  took  the  station  assigned  to  him. 

Every  thing  now  was  arranged  for  action,  and  the  pedler  very  de- 
liberately went  over  the  whole  of  his  injunctions  to  the  two  actors  in 
the  scene.  The  Captain  he  conjured  to  dispense  with  his  erect  mili- 
tary carriage,  and  for  a season  to  adopt  the  humble  paces  of  his 
father’s  negro;  and  Caesar  he  enjoined  to  silence  and  disguise,  so 
long  as  he  could  possibly  maintain  them.  Thus  prepared,  he  opened 
the  door,  and  called  aloud  to  the  sentinel,  who  had  retired  to  the 
farthest  end  of  the  passage,  in  order  to  avoid  receiving  any  of  that 
spiritual  comfort,  which  he  felt  was  the  sole  property  of  another. 

“ Let  the  woman  of  the  house  be  called,”  said  Harvey,  in  the 
solemn  key  of  his  assumed  character ; “ and  let  her  come  alone.  The 
prisoner  is  in  a happy  train  of  meditation,  and  must  not  be  led  from 
his  devotions.” 

Caesar  sunk  his  face  between  his  hands;  and  when  the  soldier 
looked  into  the  apartment,  he  thought  he  saw  his  charge  in  deep  ab- 


380 


THE  SPY. 


straetion.  Casting  a glance  of  huge  contempt  at  the  divine,  he  called 
aloud  for  the  good  woman  of  the  house.  She  hastened  at  the  sum- 
mons, with  earnest  zeal,  entertaining  a secret  hope  that  she  was  to 
be  admitted  to  the  gossip  of  a death-bed  repentance. 

“ Sister,”  said  the  minister,  in  the  authoritative  tones  of  a master, 
“ have  you  in  the  house  ‘ The  Christian  Criminal’s  last  Moments,  or 
Thoughts  on  Eternity,  for  them  who  die  a violent  Death  ?’  ” 

“ I never  heard  of  the  book  !”  said  the  matron  in  astonishment. 

“’Tis  not  unlikely;  there  are  many  books  you  have  never  heard 
of : it  is  impossible  for  this  poor  penitent  to  pass  in  peace,  without 
the  consolations  of  that  volume.  One  hour’s  reading  in  it,  is  worth 
an  age  of  man’s  preaching.” 

“ Bless  me,  what  a treasure  to  possess ! — when  was  it  put 
out?” 

“ It  was  first  put  out  at  Geneva  in  the  Greek  language,  and  then 
translated  at  Boston.  It  is  a book,  woman,  that  should  be  in  the 
hands  of  every  Christian,  especially  such  as  die  upon  the  gallows. 
Have  a horse  prepared  instantly  for  this  black,  who  shall  accompany 

me  to  my  Brother , and  I will  send  down  the  volume  yet  in 

season.  — Brother,  compose  thy  mind ; you  are  now  in  the  narrow 
path  to  glory.” 

Caesar  wriggled  a little  in  his  chair,  but  he  had  sufficient  recollec- 
tion to  conceal  his  face  with  hands  that  were,  in  their  turn,  concealed 
by  gloves.  The  landlady  departed,  to  comply  with  this  very  rea- 
sonable request,  and  the  group  of  conspirators  were  again  left  to 
themselves. 

“This  is  well,”  said  the  pedler;  “but  the  difficult  task  is  to  de- 
ceive the  officer  who  commands  the  guard  — he  is  lieutenant  to 
Lawton,  and  has  learned  some  of  the  Captain’s  own  cunning  in  these 
things.  Remember,  Captain  Wharton,”  continued  he,  with  an  air 
of  pride,  “ that  now  is  the  moment  when  every  thing  depends  on 
our  coolness.” 

“ My  fate  can  be  made  but  little  worse  than  it  is  at  present,  my 


THE  SPY 


381 


worthy  fellow/’  said  Henry;  “but  for  your  sake  I will  do  all  tha 
in  me  lies.” 

“ And  wherein  can  I be  more  forlorn  and  persecuted  than  I no 
am?”  asked  the  pedler,  with  that  wild  incoherence  which  often 
crossed  his  manner.  “ But  I have  promised  one  to  save  you,  and  to 
him  I never  have  yet  broken  my  word.” 

“ And  who  is  he  ?”  said  Henry,  with  awakened  interest 

“No  one.” 

The  man  soon  returned,  and  announced  that  the  horses  were  at 
the  door.  Harvey  gave  the  Captain  a glance,  and  led  the  way  down 
the  stairs,  first  desiring  the  woman  to  leave  the  prisoner  to  himself, 
in  order  that  he  might  digest  the  wholesome  mental  food  that  he 
had  so  lately  received. 

A rumour  of  the  odd  character  of  the  priest  had  spread  from  the 
sentinel  at  the  door  to  his  comrades;  so  that  when  Harvey  and 
Wharton  reached  the  open  space  before  the  building,  they  found  a 
dozen  idle  dragoons  loitering  about,  with  the  waggish  intention  of 
quizzing  the  fanatic,  and  employed  in  affected  admiration  of  the 
steeds. 

“ A fine  horse  !”  said  the  leader  in  this  plan  of  mischief ; “ but  a 
little  low  in  flesh ; I suppose  from  hard  labour  in  your  calling.” 

“ My  calling  may  be  laboursome  to  both  myself  and  this  faithful 
beast,  but  then  a day  of  settling  is  at  hand,  that  will  reward  me  for 
all  my  outgoings  and  incomings,”  said  Birch,  putting  his  foot  in  the 
stirrup,  and  preparing  to  mount. 

“You  work  for  pay,  then,  as  we  fight  for’t?”  cried  another  of 
the  party. 

“ Even  so  — ‘is  not  the  labourer  worthy  of  his  hire  ?’  ” 

“ Come,  suppose  you  give  us  a little  preaching ; we  have  a leisure 
moment  just  now,  and  there’s  no  telling  how  much  good  you  might 
do  a set  of  reprobates  like  us,  in  a few  words;  here,  mount  this 
horseblock,  and  take  your  text  where  you  please.” 

The  men  now  gathered  in  eager  delight  around  the  pedler,  who, 


382 


THE  SPY. 


glancing  his  eye  expressively  towards  the  Captain,  who  had  been 
suffered  to  mount,  replied  — 

“ Doubtless,  for  such  is  my  duty.  But  Caesar,  you  can  ride  up 
the  road  and  deliver  the  note  — the  unhappy  prisoner  will  be  want- 
ing the  book,  for  his  hours  are  numbered.” 

“ Ay  — ay,  go  along,  Caesar,  and  get  the  book,”  shouted  half  a 
dozen  voices,  all  crowding  eagerly  around  the  ideal  priest,  in  antici- 
pation of  a frolic. 

The  pedler  inwardly  dreaded,  that,  in  their  unceremonious  hand- 
ling of  himself  and  garments,  his  hat  and  wig  might  be  displaced, 
when  detection  would  be  certain ; he  was  therefore  fain  to  comply 
with  their  request.  Ascending  the  horseblock,  after  hemming  once 
or  twice,  and  casting  several  glances  at  the  Captain,  who  continued 
immoveable,  he  commenced  as  follows  : 

u I shall  call  your  attention,  my  brethren,  to  that  portion  of  Scrip- 
ture which  you  will  find  in  the  second  book  of  Samuel,  and  which 
is  written  in  the  following  words : — (Jlnd  the  king  lamented  over 
Abner , and  said , Died  Abner  as  a fool  dieth  ? Thy  hands  were 
not  bound , nor  thy  feet  put  into  fetters  : as  a man  falleth  before 
wicked  men , so  fellest  thou.  And  all  the  people  wept  again  over 
him ? Caesar,  ride  forward,  I say,  and  obtain  the  book  as  directed; 
thy  master  is  groaning  in  spirit  even  now  for  the  want  of  it.” 

u An  excellent  text !”  cried  the  dragoons.  “ Go  on  — go  on  — 
let  the  snowball  stay ; he  wants  to  be  edified  as  well  as  another.” 

“ What  are  you  at  there,  scoundrels  ?”  cried  Lieutenant  Mason, 
as  he  came  in  sight  from  a walk  he  had  taken  to  sneer  at  the  even- 
ing parade  of  the  regiment  of  militia ; u away  with  every  man  of 
you  to  your  quarters,  and  let  me  find  that  each  horse  is  cleaned  and 
littered,  when  I come  round.”  The  sound  of  the  officer’s  voice  ope- 
rated like  a charm,  and  no  priest  could  desire  a more  silent  congre- 
gation, although  he  might  possibly  have  wished  for  one  that  was 
more  numerous.  Mason  had  not  done  speaking,  when  it  was  re- 
duced to  the  image  of  Csesar  only.  The  pedler  took  that  opportu- 


THE  SPY. 


383 


nity  to  mount,  but  be  had  to  preserve  the  gravity  of  his  movements, 
for  the  remark  of  the  troopers  upon  the  condition  of  their  beasts  was 
but  too  just,  and  a dozen  dragoon  horses  stood  saddled  and  bridled 
at  hand,  ready  to  receive  their  riders,  at  a moment’s  warning. 

“Well,  have  you  bitted  the  poor  fellow  within,”  said  Mason, 
“ that  he  can  take  his  last  ride  under  the  curb  of  divinity,  old  gen- 
tleman ?” 

“ There  is  evil  in  thy  conversation,  profane  man,”  cried  the  priest, 
raising  his  hands,  and  casting  his  eyes  upwards  in  holy  horror ; “ so 
I will  depart  from  thee  unhurt,  as  Daniel  was  liberated  from  the 
lions’  den.” 

“ Off  with  you,  for  a hypocritical,  psalm-singing,  canting  rogue  in 
disguise,”  said  Mason,  scornfully;  “by  the  life  of  Washington ! it 
worries  an  honest  fellow  to  see  such  voracious  beasts  of  prey  ravaging 
a country  for  which  he  sheds  his  blood.  If  I had  you  on  a Virginia 
plantation  for  a quarter  of  an  hour,  I ’d  teach  you  to  worm  the  to- 
bacco, with  the  turkeys.” 

“ I leave  you,  and  shake  the  dust  off  my  shoes,  that  no  remnant 
of  this  wicked  hole  may  tarnish  the  vestments  of  the  godly.” 

“ Start,  or  I will  shake  the  dust  from  your  jacket,  designing 
knave  ! A fellow  to  be  preaching  to  my  men  ! There ’s  Hollister 
put  the  devil  in  them  by  his  exhorting ; the  rascals  were  getting  too 
conscientious  to  strike  a blow  that  would  rase  the  skin.  But  hold  ! 
whither  do  you  travel,  master  blackey,  in  such  godly  company  ?” 

“ He  goes,”  said  the  minister,  hastily  speaking  for  his  companion, 
“ to  return  with  a book  of  much  condolence  and  virtue  to  the  sinful 
youth  above,  whose  soul  will  speedily  become  white,  even  as  his  out- 
wards are  black  and  unseemly.  Would  you  deprive  a dying  man  of 
the  consolation  of  religion  ?” 

“No,  no,  poor  fellow,  his  fate  is  bad  enough;  a famous  good 
breakfast  his  prim  body  of  an  aunt  gave  us.  But  harkee,  Mr.  Reve- 
lations, if  the  youth  must  die  secundum  artem , let  it  be  unde  • a 
gentleman’s  directions;  and  my  advice  is,  that  you  never  trust  that 


384 


THE  SPY. 


skeleton  of  yours  among  us  again,  or  I will  take  the  skin  off  and 
leave  you  naked.” 

“ Out  upon  thee  for  a reviler  and  scoffer  of  goodness  !”  said  Birch, 
moving  slowly,  and  with  a due  observance  of  clerical  dignity,  down 
the  road,  followed  by  the  imaginary  Caesar ; “ but  I leave  thee,  and 
that  behind  me  that  will  prove  thy  condemnation,  and  take  from 
thee  a hearty  and  joyful  deliverance.” 

“Damn  him,”  muttered  the  trooper;  “the  fellow  rides  like  a 
stake,  and  his  legs  stick  out  like  the  cocks  of  his  hat.  I wish  I had 
him  below  these  hills,  where  the  law  is  not  over-particular,  I ’d  — ” 

“ Corporal  of  the  guard ! — corporal  of  the  guard  !”  shouted  the 
sentinel  in  the  passage  to  the  chambers,  “ corporal  of  the  guard ! — 
corporal  of  the  guard !” 

The  subaltern  flew  up  the  narrow  stairway  that  led  to  the  room 
of  the  prisoner,  and  demanded  the  meaning  of  the  outcry. 

The  soldier  was  standing  at  the  open  door  of  the  apartment,  look- 
ing in  with  a suspicious  eye  on  the  supposed  British  officer.  On 
observing  his  lieutenant,  he  fell  back  with  habitual  respect,  and 
replied,  with  an  air  of  puzzled  thought  — 

“I  don’t  know,  sir;  but  just  now  the  prisoner  looked  queer. 
Ever  since  the  preacher  has  left  him,  he  don’t  look  as  he  used  to  do 
— but,”  gazing  intently  over  the  shoulder  of  his  officer,  “ it  must  be 
him,  too ! There  is  the  same  powdered  head,  and  the  darn  in  the 
coat,  where  he  was  hit  the  day  we  had  the  last  brush  with  the 
enemy.” 

“And  then  all  this  noise  is  occasioned  by  your  doubting  whether 
that  poor  gentleman  is  your  prisoner,  or  not,  is  it,  sirrah  ? Who  the 
devil  do  you  think  it  can  be,  else  ?” 

“ I don’t  know  who  else  it  can  be,”  returned  the  fellow,  sullenly; 
“ but  he  is  grown  thicker  and  shorter,  if  it  is  he ; and  see  for  your- 
self, sir,  he  shakes  all  over,  like  a man  in  an  ague.” 

This  was  but  too  true.  Caesar  was  an  alarmed  auditor  of  this  short 
conversation,  and,  from  congratulating  himself  upon  the  dexterous 


THE  SPY. 


385 


escape  of  his  young  master,  his  thoughts  were  very  naturally  begin- 
ning to  dwell  upon  the  probable  consequences  to  his  own  person.  The 
pause  that  succeeded  the  last  remark  of  the  sentinel,  in  no  degree  con- 
tributed to  the  restoration  of  his  faculties.  Lieutenant  Mason  was 
busied  in  examining  with  his  own  eyes  the  suspected  person  of  the 
black,  and  Cassar  was  aware  of  the  fact,  by  stealing  a look  through 
a passage  under  one  of  his  arms,  that  he  had  left  expressly  for  the 
purpose  of  reconnoitring.  Captain  Lawton  would  have  discovered 
the  fraud  immediately,  but  Mason  was  by  no  means  so  quick-sighted 
as  his  commander.  He  therefore  turned  rather  contemptuously  to 
the  soldier,  and,  speaking  in  an  under-tone,  observed  — 

a That  anabaptist,  methodistical,  quaker,  psalm-singing  rascal  has 
frightened  the  boy,  with  his  farrago  about  flames  and  brimstone. 
I T1  step  in  and  cheer  him  with  a little  rational  conversation.” 

u I have  heard  of  fear  making  a man  white,”  said  the  soldier, 
drawing  back,  and  staring  as  if  his  eyes  would  start  from  their  sock- 
ets, “ but  it  has  changed  the  royal  captain  to  a black !” 

The  truth  was,  that  Caesar,  unable  to  hear  what  Mason  uttered  in 
a low  voice,  and  having  every  fear  aroused  in  him  by  what  had  al- 
ready passed,  incautiously  removed  the  wig  a little  from  one  of  his 
ears,  in  order  to  hear  the  better,  without  in  the  least  remembering 
that  its  colour  might  prove  fatal  to  his  disguise.  The  sentinel  had 
kept  his  eyes  fastened  on  his  prisoner,  and  noticed  the  action.  The 
attention  of  Mason  was  instantly  drawn  to  the  same  object;  and, 
forgetting  all  delicacy  for  a brother  officer  in  distress,  or,  in  short, 
forgetting  every  thing  but  the  censure  that  might  alight  on  his  corps, 
the  lieutenant  sprang  forward  and  seized  the  terrified  African  by  the 
throat ; for  no  sooner  had  Caesar  heard  his  colour  named,  than  he 
knew  his  discovery  was  certain ; and  at  the  first  sound  of  Mason’s 
heavy  boot  on  the  floor,  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and  retreated  preci- 
pitately to  a corner  of  the  room. 

“ Who  are  you  ?”  cried  Mason,  dashing  the  head  of  the  old  man 
against  the  angle  of  the  wall  at  each  interrogatory,  u who  the  devil 

17 


386 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


are  you,  and  where  is  the  Englishman  ? Speak,  thou  thundercloud  ! 
Answer  me,  you  jackdaw,  or  I '11  hang  you  on  the  gallows  of  the 
spy !” 

Caesar  continued  firm.  Neither  the  threats  nor  the  blows  could 
extract  any  reply,  until  the  Lieutenant,  by  a very  natural  transition 
in  the  attack,  sent  his  heavy  boot  forward  in  a direction  that  brought 
it  in  direct  contact  with  the  most  sensitive  part  of  the  negro  - — his 
shin.  The  most  obdurate  heart  could  not  have  exacted  further 
patience,  and  Caesar  instantly  gave  in.  The  first  words  he  spoke 
were  — 

“ Golly  ! Massa,  you  t’ink  I got  no  feelin'  ?” 

“ By  Heavens !”  shouted  the  Lieutenant,  “ it  is  the  negro  himself ! 
Scoundrel ! where  is  your  master,  and  who  was  the  TDriest  ?”  While 
speaking,  he  made  a movement,  as  if  about  to  renew  the  attack ; but 
Caesar  cried  aloud  for  mercy,  promising  to  tell  all  that  he  knew. 

“ Who  was  the  priest  ?”  repeated  the  dragoon,  drawing  back  his 
formidable  leg,  and  holding  it  in  threatening  suspense  — 

“ Harvey,  Harvey !”  cried  Caesar,  dancing  from  one  leg  to  the 
other,  as  he  thought  each  member  in  turn  might  be  assailed. 

“ Harvey  who,  you  black  villain  V’  cried  the  impatient  Lieutenant, 
as  he  executed  a full  measure  of  vengeance  by  letting  his  leg  fly. 

“ Birch  !”  shrieked  Caesar,  falling  on  his  knees,  the  tears  rolling 
in  large  drops  over  his  shining  face. 

“ Harvey  Birch  1"  echoed  the  trooper,  hurling  the  black  from  him, 
and  rushing  from  the  room.  u To  arms  ! to  arms  ! Fifty  guineas 
lor  the  life  of  the  pedler  spy  — give  no  quarter  to  either.  Mount, 
mount ! to  arms  ! to  horse  !” 

During  the  uproar  occasioned  by  the  assembling  of  the  dragoons, 
who  all  rushed  tumultuously  to  their  horses.  Caesar  rose  from  the 
floor,  where  he  had  been  thrown  by  Mason,  and  began  to  examine 
into  his  injuries.  Happily  for  himself,  he  had  alighted  on  his  head, 
and  consequently  sustained  no  material  damage. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


Away  went  Gilpin,  neck  or  nought, 

Away  went  hat  and  wig ; 

He  little  dreamt,  when  he  set  out, 

Of  running  such  a rig. 

Cowper. 

The  road  which  it  was  necessary  for  the  pedler  and  the  English 
captain  to  travel,  in  order  to  reach  the  shelter  of  the  hills,  lay,  for  a 
half-mile,  in  full  view  from  the  door  of  the  building  that  had  so  re- 
cently been  the  prison  of  the  latter ; running  for  the  whole  distance 
over  the  rich  plain,  that  spreads  to  the  very  foot  of  the  mountains, 
which  here  rise  in  a nearly  perpendicular  ascent  from  their  bases ) 
it  then  turned  short  to  the  right,  and  was  obliged  to  follow  the  wind 
ings  of  nature,  as  it  won  its  way  into  the  bosom  of  the  Highlands. 

To  preserve  the  supposed  difference  in  their  stations,  Harvey  rode 
a short  distance  ahead  of  his  companion,  and  maintained  the  sober, 
dignified  pace,  that  was  suited  to  his  assumed  character.  On  their 
right,  the  regiment  of  foot,  that  we  have  already  mentioned,  lay  in 
tents ; and  the  sentinels  who  guarded  their  encampment  were  to  be 
seen  moving  with  measured  tread  under  the  skirts  of  the  hills  them- 
selves. 

The  first  impulse  of  Henry  was,  certainly,  To  urge  the  beast  he 
rode  to  his  greatest  speed  at  once,  and  by  a coup-de-main  not  only 
accomplish  his  escape,  but  relieve  himself  from  the  torturing  sus- 
pense of  his  situation.  But  the  forward  movement  that  the  youth 
made  for  this  purpose  was  instantly  checked  by  the  pedler. 

u Hold  up  \”  he  cried,  dexterously  reining  his  own  horse  across 


388 


THE  SPY. 


the  path  of  the  other ; “ would  you  ruin  us  both  ? Fall  into  the 
place  of  a black,  following  his  master.  Did  you  not  see  their  blooded 
chargers,  all  saddled  and  bridled,  standing  in  the  sun  before  the 
house  ? How  long  do  you  think  that  miserable  Dutch  horse  you 
are  on  would  hold  his  speed,  if  pursued  by  the  Virginians  ? Every 
foot  that  we  can  gain,  without  giving  the  alarm,  counts  a day  in  our 
lives.  Ride  steadily  after  me,  and  on  no  account  look  back.  They 
are  as  subtle  as  foxes,  ay,  and  as  ravenous  for  blood  as  wolves  !” 
Henry  reluctantly  restrained  his  impatience,  and  followed  the  di- 
rection of  the  pedler.  His  imagination,  however,  continually  alarmed 
him  with  the  fancied  sounds  of  pursuit;  though  Birch,  who  occa- 
sionally looked  back  under  the  pretence  of  addressing  his  companion, 
assured  him  that  all  continued  quiet  and  peaceful. 

“ But,”  said  Henry,  “ it  will  not  be  possible  for  Csesar  to  remain 
long  undiscovered.  Had  we  not  better  put  our  horses  to  the  gallop, 
and  by  the  time  they  can  reflect  on  the  cause  of  our  flight,  we  can 
reach  the  corner  of  the  woods  ?” 

“ Ah ! you  little  know  them,  Captain  Wharton,”  returned  the 
pedler ; “ there  is  a sergeant  at  this  moment  looking  after  us,  as  if 
he  thought  all  was  not  right ; the  keen-eyed  fellow  watches  me  like 
a tiger  lying  in  wait  for  his  leap.  When  I stood  on  the  horseblock, 
he  half  suspected  that  something  was  wrong.  Nay,  check  your 
beast  — we  must  let  the  animals  walk  a little,  for  he  is  laying  his 
hand  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle.  If  he  mounts,  we  are  gone. 
The  foot-soldiers  could  reach  us  with  their  muskets.” 

“ What  does  he  now  ?”  asked  Henry,  reining  his  horse  to  a walk, 
but  at  the  same  time  pressing  his  heels  into  the  animals  sides,  to 
be  in  readiness  for  a spring. 

“He  turns  from  his  charger,  and  looks  the  other  way;  now  trot 
Dn  gently  — not  so  fast  — not  so  fast.  Observe  the  sentinel  in  the 
field,  a little  ahead  of  us  — he  eyes  us  keenly.” 

“Never  mind  the  footman,”  said  Henry,  impatiently;  “he  :an 
do  nothing  but  shoot  us  — whereas  these  dragoons  may  make  me  a 


THE  SPY. 


389 


captive  again.  Surely,  Harvey,  there  are  horse  moving  down  the 
road  behind  us.  Do  you  see  nothing  particular  ?” 

“ Humph  !”  ejaculated  the  pedler;  “ there  is  something  particular 
indeed,  to  be  seen  behind  the  thicket  on  our  left.  Turn  your  head 
a little,  and  you  may  see  and  profit  by  it  too.” 

Henry  eagerly  seized  this  permission  to  look  aside,  and  the  blood 
curdled  to  his  heart  as  he  observed  that  they  were  passing  a gallows, 
which  unquestionably  had  been  erected  for  his  own  execution.  He 
turned  his  face  from  the  sight,  in  undisguised  horror. 

“ There  is  a warning  to  be  prudent,”  said  the  pedler,  in  the  sen- 
tentious manner  that  he  often  adopted. 

“ It  is  a terrific  sight,  indeed  !”  cried  Henry,  for  a moment  veiling 
his  eyes  with  his  hand,  as  if  to  drive  a vision  from  before  him. 

The  pedler  moved  his  body  partly  around,  and  spoke  with  ener- 
getic but  gloomy  bitterness  — “And  yet,  Captain  Wharton,  you  see 
it  where  the  setting  sun  shines  full  upon  you;  the  air  you  breathe 
is  clear,  and  fresh  from  the  hills  before  you.  Every  step  that  you 
take  leaves  that  hated  gallows  behind ; and  every  dark  hollow,  and 
every  shapeless  rock  in  the  mountains,  offers  you  a hiding  place  from 
the  vengeance  of  your  enemies.  But  I have  seen  the  gibbet  raised, 
when  no  place  of  refuge  offered.  Twice  have  I been  buried  in  dun- 
geons, where,  fettered  and  in  chains,  I have  passed  nights  in  torture, 
looking  forward  to  the  morning’s  dawn  that  was  to  light  me  to  a 
death  of  infamy.  The  sweat  has  started  from  limbs  that  seemed 
already  drained  of  their  moisture;  and  if  I ventured  to  the  hole 
that  admitted  air  through  grates  of  iron  to  look  out  upon  the  smiles 
of  nature,  which  Grod  has  bestowed  for  the  meanest  of  his  creatures, 
the  gibbet  has  glared  before  my  eyes,  like  an  evil  conscience  harrow- 
ing the  soul  of  a dying  man.  Four  times  have  I been  in  their  power, 
besides  this  last;  but  — twice  — did  I think  my  hour  had  come.  It 
is  hard  to  die  at  the  best,  Captain  Wharton;  but  to  spend  your  last 
moments  alone  and  unpitied,  to  know  that  none  near  you  so  much  as 
think  of  the  fate  that  is  to  you  the  closing  of  all  that  is  earthly ; to 


390 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


think.  that  in  a few  hours,  you  are  to  be  led  from  the  gloom,  whielr 
as  you  dwell  on  what  follows,  becomes  dear  to  you,  to  the  face  of 
day,  and  there  to  meet  all  eyes  fixed  upon  you,  as  if  you  were  a wild 
beast;  and  to  lose  sight  of  every  thing  amidst  the  jeers  and  scoffs 
of  your  fellow-creatures  — that,  Captain  Wharton,  that  indeed  is  to 
die  1” 

Henry  listened  in  amazement,  as  his  companion  uttered  this  speed) 
with  a vehemence  altogether  new  to  him ; both  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten their  danger  and  their  disguises. 

“ What ! were  you  ever  so  near  death  as  that  ?” 

“ Have  I not  been  the  hunted  beast  of  these  hills  for  three  years 
past?”  resumed  Harvey;  “and  once  they  even  led  me  to  the  foot 
of  the  gallows  itself,  and  I escaped  only  by  an  alarm  from  the  royal 
troops.  Had  they  been  a quarter  of  an  hour  later,  I must  have 
died.  There  was  I placed  in  the  midst  of  unfeeling  men,  and  gaping 
women  and  children,  as  a monster  to  be  cursed.  When  I would 
pray  to  God,  my  ears  were  insulted  with  the  history  of  my  crimes ; 
and  when,  in  all  that  multitude,  I looked  around  for  a single  face 
that  showed  me  any  pity,  I could  find  none  — no,  not  even  one ; all 
cursed  me  as  a wretch  who  would  sell  his  country  for  gold.  The 
sun  was  brighter  to  my  eyes  than  common  — but  it  was  the  last  time 
I should  see  it.  The  fields  were  gay  and  pleasant,  and  every  thing 
seemed  as  if  this  world  was  a kind  of  heaven.  Oh  ! how  sweet  life 
was  to  me  at  that  moment ! *T  was  a dreadful  hour,  Captain  Whar- 
ton, and  such  as  you  have  never  known.  You  have  friends  to  feel 
for  you,  but  I had  none  but  a father  to  mourn  my  loss,  when  he 
might  hear  of  it;  but  there  was  no  pity,  no  consolation  near,  to 
soothe  my  anguish.  Every  thing  seemed  to  have  deserted  me.  I 
even  thought  that  iie  had  forgotten  that  I lived.” 

“ Whsft. ! did  you  feel  that  God  himself  had  forsaken  you,  Harvey  ?” 
“ God  never  forsakes  his  servants,”  returned  Birch,  with  reverence, 
and  exhibiting  naturally  a devotion  that  hitherto  he  had  only  assumed. 
“And  who  did  you  mean  by  he?” 


T HE  S P V. 


391 


The  pedler  raised  himself  in  his  saddle  to  the  stiff  and  upright 
posture  that  was  suited  to  his  outward  appearance,  The  look  of  fire, 
that  for  a short  time  glowed  on  his  countenance,  disappeared  in  the 
solemn  lines  of  unbending  self-abasement,  and,  speaking  as  if  ad- 
dressing a negro,  he  replied  — 

u In  heaven  there  is  no  distinction  of  colour,  my  brother ; there- 
fore you  have  a precious  charge  within  you,  that  you  must  hereafter 
render  an  account  of  ;”  dropping  his  voice  — “ this  is  the  last  sentinel 
near  the  road ; look  not  back,  as  you  value  your  life.” 

Henry  remembered  his  situation,  and  instantly  assumed  the  hum- 
ble demeanour  of  his  adopted  character.  The  unaccountable  energy 
of  the  pedler’ s manner  was  soon  forgotten  in  the  sense  of  his  own 
immediate  danger;  and  with  the  recollection  of  his  critical  situation, 
returned  all  the  uneasiness  that  he  had  momentarily  forgotten. 

“ What  see  you,  Harvey  ?”  he  cried,  observing  the  pedler  to  gaze 
towards  the  building  they  had  left,  with  ominous  interest ; “ what 
see  you  at  the  house  ?” 

“ That  which  bodes  no  good  to  us,”  returned  the  pretended  priest. 
“ Throw  aside  the  mask  and  wig ; you  will  need  all  your  senses  with- 
out much  delay ; throw  them  in  the  road : there  are  none  before  us 
that  I dread,  but  there  are  those  behind  who  will  give  us  a fearful 
race !” 

“ Nay,  then,”  cried  the  Captain,  casting  the  implements  of  his 
disguise  into  the  highway,  “ let  us  improve  our  time  to  the  utmost. 
W e want  a full  quarter  to  the  turn ; why  not  push  for  it,  at  once  ?” 
u Be  cool ; they  are  in  alarm,  but  they  will  not  mount  without  an 
officer,  unless  they  see  us  fly  — now  he  comes,  he  moves  to  the  sta- 
bles ; trot  briskly ; a dozen  are  in  their  saddles,  but  the  officer  stops 
to  tighten  his  girths;  they  hope  to  steal  a march  upon  us;  he  is 
mounted;  now  ride,  Captain  Wharton,  for  your  life,  andjkeep  at  my 
heels.  If  you  quit  me,  you  will  be  lost !” 

A second  request  was  unnecessary.  The  instant  that  Harvey  put 
Ills  horse  to  his  speed.  Captain  Wharton  was  at  his  heels,  urging  the 


392 


THE  SPY. 


miserable  animal  he  rode  to  the  utmost.  Birch  had  selected  his  own 
beast;  and  although  vastly  inferior  to  the  high-fed  and  blooded 
chargers  of  the  dragoons,  still  it  was  much  superior  to  the  little 
pony  that  had  been  thought  good  enough  to  carry  Caesar  Thompson 
on  an  errand.  A very  few  jumps  convinced  the  Captain  that  his 
companion  was  fast  leaving  him,  and  a fearful  glance  thrown  behind, 
informed  the  fugitive  that  his  enemies  were  as  speedily  approaching. 
With  that  abandonment  that  makes  misery  doubly  grievous,  when  it 
is  to  be  supported  alone,  Henry  cried  aloud  to  the  pedler  not  to  de- 
sert him.  Harvey  instantly  drew  up,  and  suffered  his  companion  to 
run  alongside  of  his  own  horse.  The  cocked  hat  and  wig  of  the 
pedler  fell  from  his  head  the  moment  that  his  steed  began  to  move 
briskly,  and  this  developement  of  their  disguise,  as  it  might  be 
termed,  was  witnessed  by  the  dragoons,  who  announced  their  obser- 
vation by  a boisterous  shout,  that  seemed  to  be  uttered  in  the  very 
ears  of  the  fugitives ; so  loud  was  the  cry,  and  so  short  the  distance 
between  them. 

“ Had  we  not  better  leave  our  horses  ?”  said  Henry,  u and  make 
for  the  hills  across  the  fields,  on  our  left  ? — the  fence  will  stop  our 
pursuers.” 

u That  way  lies  the  gallows,”  returned  the  pedler;  “ these  fellows 
go  three  feet  to  our  two,  and  would  mind  the  fences  no  more  than 
we  do  these  ruts ; but  it  is  a short  quarter  to  the  turn,  and  there  are 
twro  roads  behind  the  wood.  They  may  stand  to  choose  until  they 
can  take  the  track,  and  we  shall  gain  a little  upon  them  there.” 

“ But  this  miserable  horse  is  blown  already,”  cried  Henry,  urging 
his  beast  with  the  end  of  his  bridle,  at  the  same  time  that  Harvey 
aided  his  efforts  by  applying  the  lash  of  a heavy  riding-whip  he 
carried ; u he  will  never  stand  it  for  half  a mile  farther.” 

“ A quarter  will  do;  a quarter  will  do,”  said  the  pedler;  “a  single 
quarter  will  save  us,  if  you  follow  my  directions.” 

Somewhat  cheered  by  the  cool  and  confident  manner  of  his  com- 
panion, Henry  coi  tinued  silently  urging  his  horse  forward.  A few 


THE  SPY. 


393 


moments  brought  them  to  the  desired  turn,  and  as  they  doubled 
round  a point  of  low  under-brush,  the  fugitives  caught  a glimpse 
of  their  pursuers  scattered  along  the  high-way.  Mason  and  the 
sergeant,  being  better  mounted  than  the  rest  of  the  party,  were 
much  nearer  to  their  heels  than  even  the  pedler  thought  could  be 
possible. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hills,  and  for  some  distance  up  the  dark  valley 
that  wound  among  the  mountains,  a thick  underwood  of  saplings  had 
been  suffered  to  shoot  up,  where  the  heavier  growth  was  felled  for 
the  sake  of  the  fuel.  At  the  sight  of  this  cover,  Henry  again  urged 
the  pedler  to  dismount,  and  to  plunge  into  the  woods ; but  his  re- 
quest was  promptly  refused.  The  two  roads,  before  mentioned,  met 
at  a very  sharp  angle,  at  a short  distance  from  the  turn,  and  both 
were  circuitous,  so  that  but  little  of  either  could  be  seen  at  a time. 
The  pedler  took  the  one  which  led  to  the  left,  but  held  it  only  a 
moment;  for,  on  reaching  a partial  opening  in  the  thicket,  he  darted 
across  into  the  right-hand  path,  and  led  the  way  up  a steep  ascent, 
which  lay  directly  before  them.  This  manoeuvre  saved  them.  On 
reaching  the  fork,  the  dragoons  followed  the  track,  and  passed  the 
spot  where  the  fugitives  had  crossed  to  the  other  road,  before  they 
missed  the  marks  of  the  footsteps.  Their  loud  Ties  were  heard  by 
Henry  and  the  pedler,  as  their  wearied  and  breathless  animals  toiled 
up  the  hill,  ordering  their  comrades  in  the  rear  to  ride  in  the  right 
direction.  The  Captain  again  proposed  to  leave  their  horses  and 
dash  into  the  thicket. 

“Not  yet,  not  yet,”  said  Birch,  in  a low  voice;  “the  road  falls 
from  the  top  of  this  hill  as  steep  as  it  rises;  first  let  us  gain  the  top.” 
While  speaking,  they  reached  the  desired  summit,  and  both  threw 
themselves  from  their  horses,  Henry  plunging  into  the  thick  under- 
wood, which  covered  the  side  of  the  mountain  for  some  distance  above 
them.  Harvey  stopped  to  give  each  of  their  beasts  a few  severe 
blows  of  his  whip,  that  drove  them  headlong  down  the  path  on  the 
other  side  of  the  eminence,  and  then  followed  his  example. 

17  * 


394 


THE  SPY. 


The  pedler  entered  the  thicket  with  a little  caution,  and  avoided, 
as  much  as  possible,  rustling  or  breaking  the  branches  in  his  way 
There  was  but  time  only  to  shelter  his  person  from  view,  when  a 
dragoon  led  up  the  ascent;  and  on  reaching  the  height,  he  cried 
aloud  — 

“ I saw  one  of  their  horses  turning  the  hill  this  minute.” 

“ Drive  on ; spur  forward,  my  lads,”  shouted  Mason ; “ give  the 
Englishman  quarter,  but  cut  down  the  pedler,  and  make  an  end  of 
him.” 

Henry  felt  his  companion  gripe  his  arm  hard,  as  he  listened  in  a 
great  tremor  to  this  cry,  which  was  followed  by  the  passage  of  a 
dozen  horsemen,  with  a vigour  and  speed  that  showed  too  plainly 
how  little  security  their  over-tired  steeds  could  have  afforded 
them. 

“ Now,”  said  the  pedler,  rising  from  the  cover  to  reconnoitre,  and 
standing  for  a moment  in  suspense,  “ all  that  we  gain  is  (dear  gain ; 
for,  as  we  go  up,  they  go  down.  Let  us  be  stirring.” 

“ But  will  they  not  follow  us,  and  surround  this  mountain  ?”  said 
Henry,  rising,  and  imitating  the  laboured  but  rapid  progress  of  his 
companion ; “ remember,  they  have  foot  as  well  as  horse,  and,  at  any 
rate,  we  shall  starve  in  the  hills.” 

“ Fear  nothing,  Captain  Wharton,”  returned  the  pedler,  with  con- 
fidence ; “ this  is  not  the  mountain  that  I would  be  on,  but  necessity 
has  made  me  a dexterous  pilot  among  these  hills.  I will  lead  you 
where  no  man  will  dare  to  follow.  See,  the  sun  is  already  setting 
behind  the  tops  of  the  western  mountains,  and  it  will  be  two  hours 
to  the  rising  of  the  moon.  Who,  think  you,  will  follow  us  far,  on  a 
November  night,  among  these  rocks  and  precipices  ?” 

“ Listen  !”  exclaimed  Henry;  “the  dragoons  are  shouting  to  each 
other ; they  miss  us  already.” 

“ Come  to  the  point  of  this  rock,  and  you  may  see  them,”  said 
Harvey,  composedly  seating  himself  down  to  rest.  “ Nay,  they  can 
see  us  — observe,  they  are  pointing  up  with  their  fingers  There ! 


THE  SPY. 


395 


one  has  fired  his  pistv>l,  but  the  distance  is  too  great  even  for  a 
musket.” 

“They  will  pursue  utf,”  cried  the  impatient  Henry;  “let  us  be 
moving.” 

“ They  will  not  think  of  such  a thing,”  returned  the  pedler,  pick 
ing  the  chicker-berries  that  grew  on  the  thin  soil  where  he  sat,  and 
very  deliberately  chewing  them,  leaves  and  all,  to  refresh  his  mouth. 
“ What  progress  could  they  make  here,  in  their  heavy  boots  and 
spurs,  and  long  swords?  No,  no  — they  may  go  back  and  turn  out 
the  foot,  but  the  horse  pass  through  these  defiles,  when  they  can 
keep  the  saddle,  with  fear  and  trembling.  Come,  follow  me,  Cap- 
tain Wharton ; we  have  a troublesome  march  before  us,  but  I will 
bring  you  where  none  will  think  of  venturing  this  night.” 

So  saying,  they  both  arose,  and  were  soon  hid  from  view  amongst 
the  rocks  and  caverns  of  the  mountain. 

The  conjecture  of  the  pedler  was  true.  Mason  and  his  men  dashed 
down  the  hill,  in  pursuit,  as  they  supposed,  of  their  victims,  but  on 
reaching  the  bottom  lands,  they  found  only  the  deserted  horses  of 
the  fugitives.  Some  little  time  was  spent  in  examining  the  woods 
near  them,  and  in  endeavouring  to  take  the  trail  on  such  ground  as 
might  enable  the  horse  to  pursue,  when  one  of  the  party  descried 
the  pedler  and  Henry  seated  on  the  rock  already  mentioned. 

“He’s  off,”  muttered  Mason,  eyeing  Harvey,  with  fury;  “he’s 
off,  and  we  are  disgraced.  By  heavens,  Washington  will  not  trust 
us  with  the  keeping  of  a suspected  tory,  if  we  let  the  rascal  trifle  in 
this  manner  with  the  corps;  and  there  sits  the  Englishman,  too, 
looking  down  upon  us  with  a smile  of  benevolence ! I fancy  that  ] 
can  see  it.  Well,  well,  my  lad,  you  are  comfortably  seated,  I wil) 
confess,  and  that  is  something  better  than  dancing  upon  nothing  : 
but  you  are  not  to  the  west  of  the  Harlaem  river  yet,  and  I’ll  try 
your  wind  before  you  tell  Sir  Henry  what  you  have  seen,  or  I’m  no 
soldier.” 


396 


THE  SPY. 


“ Shall  I fire,  and  frighten  the  pedler  ?”  asked  one  of  the  men, 
drawing  his  pistol  from  the  holster. 

“ Ay,  startle  the  birds  from  their  perch  — let  us  see  how  they  can 
use  the  wing.”  The  man  fired  the  pistol,  and  Mason  continued  — 
“’Fore  George,  I believe  the  scoundrels  laugh  at  us.  But  home- 
ward, or  we  shall  have  them  rolling  stones  upon  our  heads,  and  the 
Boyal  Gazettes  teeming  with  an  account  of  a rebel  regiment  routed 
by  two  loyalists.  They  have  told  bigger  lies  than  that,  before 
now.” 

The  dragoons  moved  sullenly  after  their  officer,  who  rode  towards 
their  quarters,  musing  on  the  course  it  behoved  him  to  pursue  in  the 
present  dilemma.  It  was  twilight  when  Mason’s  party  reached  the 
dwelling,  before  the  door  of  which  were  collected  a great  number  of 
the  officers  and  men,  busily  employed  in  giving  and  listening  to  the 
most  exaggerated  accounts  of  the  escape  of  the  spy.  The  mortified 
dragoons  gave  their  ungrateful  tidings  with  the  sullen  air  of  disap- 
pointed men;  and  most  of  the  officers  gathered  round  Mason,  to 
consult  of  the  steps  that  ought  to  be  taken.  Miss  Peyton  and  Fran- 
ces were  breathless  and  unobserved  listeners  to  all  that  passed  be- 
tween them,  from  the  window  of  the  chamber  immediately  above 
their  heads. 

“ Something  must  be  done,  and  that  speedily,”  observed  the  com- 
manding officer  of  the  regiment,  which  lay  encamped  before  the 
house  : “ this  English  officer  is  doubtless  an  instrument  in  the  great 
blow  aimed  at  us  by  the  enemy  lately ; besides,  our  honour  is  in- 
volved in  his  escape.” 

“Let  us  beat  the  woods!”  cried  several  at  once ; “by  morning 
we  shall  have  them  both  again.” 

“Softly,  softly,  gentlemen,”  returned  the  Colonel;  “no  man  can 
travel  these  hills  after  dark,  unless  used  to  the  passes.  Nothing  but 
horse  can  do  service  in  this  business,  and  I presume  Lieutenant 
Mason  hesitates  to  move  without  the  orders  of  his  major.” 

“I  certainly  dare  not,”  replied  the  subaltern,  gravely  shaking  his 


THE  SPY. 


397 


head,  u unless  you  will  take  the  responsibility  of  an  order ; but  Ma- 
jor Dunwoodie  will  be  back  again  in  two  hours,  and  we  can  carry 
the  tidings  through  the  hills  before  daylight ; so  that  by  spreading 
patrols  across,  from  one  river  to  the  other,  and  offering  a reward  to 
the  country  people,  their  escape  will  yet  be  impossible,  unless  they 
can  join  the  party  that  is  said  to  be  out  on  the  Hudson.” 

u A very  plausible  plan,”  cried  the  Colonel,  u and  one  that  must 
succeed;  but  let  a messenger  be  despatched  to  Dunwoodie,  or  he 
may  continue  at  the  ferry  until  it  proves  too  late ; though  doubtless 
the  runaways  will  lie  in  the  mountains  to-night.” 

To  this  suggestion  Mason  acquiesced,  and  a courier  was  sent  to  the 
Major  with  the  important  intelligence  of  the  escape  of  Henry,  and 
an  intimation  of  the  necessity  of  his  presence  to  conduct  the  pursuit. 
After  this  arrangement,  the  officers  separated. 

When  Miss  Peyton  and  her  niece  first  learnt  the  escape  of  Cap- 
tain Wharton,  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  credit  their  senses. 
They  both  relied  so  implicitly  on  the  success  of  Dunwoodie’ s exer- 
tions, that  they  thought  the  act,  on  the  part  of  their  relative,  ex- 
tremely imprudent ; but  it  was  now  too  late  to  mend  it.  While 
listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  officers,  both  were  struck  with 
the  increased  danger  of  Henry’s  situation,  if  re-captured,  and  they 
trembled  to  think  of  the  great  exertions  that  would  be  made  to  ac- 
complish this  object.  Miss  Peyton  consoled  herself,  and  endeavoured 
to  cheer  her  niece,  with  the  probability  that  the  fugitives  would 
pursue  their  course  with  unremitting  diligence,  so  that  they  might 
reach  the  Neutral  Ground  before  the  horse  would  carry  down  the 
tidings  of  their  flight.  The  absence  of  Dunwoodie  seemed  to  her 
all-important,  and  the  artless  lady  was  anxiously  devising  some  pro- 
ject that  might  detain  her  kinsman,  and  thus  give  her  nephew  the 
longest  possible  time.  But  very  different  were  the  reflections  of 
Prances.  She  could  no  longer  doubt  that  the  figure  she  had  seen 
on  the  hill  was  Birch,  and  she  felt  certain  that,  instead  of  flying  to 


398 


THE  SPY. 


the  friendly  forces  below,  her  brother  would  be  taken  to  the  myste- 
rious hut  to  pass  the  night. 

Frances  and  her  aunt  held  a long  and  animated  discussion  by 
themselves,  when  the  good  spinster  reluctantly  yielded  to  the  repre- 
sentation of  her  niece,  and,  folding  her  in  her  arms,  she  kissed  her 
cold  cheek,  and,  fervently  blessing  her,  allowed  her  to  depart  on  an 
errand  of  fraternal  love. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


And  here,  forlorn  and  lost,  1 tread. 

With  fainting-  steps,  and  slow; 

Where  wilds,  immeasurably  spread, 

Seem  length’ning-  as  I go. 

Goldsmith. 

The  night  had  set  in  dark  and  chilling,  as  Frances  Wharton,  with  a 
beating  heart  but  light  step,  moved  through  the  little  garden  that 
lay  behind  the  farm-house  which  had  been  her  brother’s  prison,  and 
took  her  way  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  she  had  seen  the 
figure  of  him  she  supposed  to  be  the  pedler.  It  was  still  early,  but 
the  darkness  and  the  dreary  nature  of  a November  evening  would, 
at  any  other  moment,  or  with  less  inducement  to  exertion,  have 
driven  her  back  in  terror  to  the  circle  she  had  left.  Without  pausing 
to  reflect,  however,  she  flew  over  the  ground  with  a rapidity  that 
seemed  to  bid  defiance  to  all  impediments,  nor  stopped  even  to 
breathe,  until  she  had  gone  half  the  distance  to  the  rock  that  she 
had  marked  as  the  spot  where  Birch  made  his  appearance  on  that 
very  morning. 

The  good  treatment  of  their  women  is  the  surest  evidence  that  a 
people  can  give  of  their  civilization ; and  there  is  no  nation  which 
has  more  to  boast  of,  in  this  respect,  than  the  Americans.  Frances 
felt  but  little  apprehension  from  the  orderly  and  quiet  troops  who 
were  taking  their  evening’s  repast  on  the  side  of  the  highway,  oppo- 
site to  the  field  through  which  she  was  flying.  They  were  her  coun- 
trymen, and  she  knew  that  her  sex  would  be  respected  by  the  Eastern 
militia,  who  composed  this  body;  but  in  the  volatile  and  reckless 


400 


THE  spy. 


character  of  the  Southern  horse  she  had  less  confidence.  Outrages 
of  any  description  were  seldom  committed  by  the  really  American 
soldiery;  but  she  recoiled,  with  exquisite  delicacy,  from  even  the 
appearance  of  humiliation.  When,  therefore,  she  heard  the  footsteps 
of  a horse  moving  slowly  up  the  road,  she  shrank,  timidly,  into  a 
little  thicket  of  wood  which  grew  around  the  spring  that  bubbled 
from  the  side  of  a hillock  near  her.  The  vidette,  for  such  it  proved 
to  be,  passed  her  without  noticing  her  form,  which  was  so  enveloped 
as  to  be  as  little  conspicuous  as  possible,  humming  a low  air  to  him- 
self, and  probably  thinking  of  some  other  fair  that  he  had  left  on  the 
banks  of  the  Potomac. 

Frances  listened  anxiously  to  the  retreating  footsteps  of  his  horse, 
and,  as  they  died  upon  her  ear,  she  ventured  from  her  place  of  se- 
crecy, and  advanced  a short  distance  into  the  field,  where,  startled 
at  the  gloom,  and  appalled  with  the  dreariness  of  the  prospect,  she 
paused  to  reflect  on  what  she  had  undertaken.  Throwing  back  the 
hood  of  her  cardinal,  she  sought  the  support  of  a tree,  and  gazed  to- 
wards the  summit  of  the  mountain  that  was  to  be  the  goal  of  her 
enterprise.  It  rose  from  the  plain  like  a huge  pyramid,  giving  no- 
thing to  the  eye  but  its  outlines.  The  pinnacle  could  be  faintly 
discerned  in  front  of  a lighter  back-ground  of  clouds,  between  which 
a few  glimmering  stars  occasionally  twinkled  in  momentary  bright- 
ness, and  then  gradually  became  obscured  by  the  passing  vapour 
that  was  moving  before  the  wind,  at  a vast  distance  below  the  clouds 
themselves.  Should  she  return,  Henry  and  the  pedler  would  most 
probably  pass  the  night  in  fancied  security  upon  that  very  hill,  to- 
wards which  she  was  straining  her  eyes,  in  the  vain  hope  of  observing 
some  light  that  might  encourage  her  to  proceed.  The  deliberate,  and 
what  to  her  seemed  cold-blooded,  project  of  the  officer  for  the  re- 
capture of  the  fugitives,  still  rang  in  her  ears,  and  stimulated  her  to 
go  on ; but  the  solitude  into  which  she  must  venture,  the  time,  the 
actual  danger  of  the  ascent,  and  the  uncertainty  of  her  finding  the 
but,  or  what  was  still  more  disheartening,  the  chance  that  it  might 


THE  SPY. 


401 


be  occupied  by  unknown  tenants,  and  those  of  the  worst  description 
• — urged  her  to  retreat. 

The  increasing  darkness  was  each  moment  rendering  objects  less 
and  less  distinct,  and  the  clouds  were  gathering  more  gloomily  in  the 
rear  of  the  hill,  until  its  form  could  no  longer  be  discerned.  Frances 
threw  back  her  rich  curls  with  both  hands  on  her  temples,  in  order 
to  possess  her  senses  in  their  utmost  keenness ; but  the  towering  hill 
was  entirely  lost  to  the  eye.  At  length  she  discovered  a faint  and 
twinkling  blaze  in  the  direction  in  which  she  thought  the  building 
stood,  that  by  its  reviving  and  receding  lustre,  might  be  taken  for 
the  glimmering  of  a fire.  But  the  delusion  vanished,  as  the  horizon 
again  cleared,  and  the  star  of  evening  shone  forth  from  a cloud,  after 
struggling  hard,  as  if  for  existence.  She  now  saw  the  mountain  to 
the  left  of  the  place  where  the  planet  was  shining,  and  suddenly  a 
streak  of  mellow  light  burst  upon  the  fantastic  oaks  that  were  thinly 
scattered  over  its  summit,  and  gradually  moved  down  its  side,  until 
the  whole  pile  became  distinct  under  the  rays  of  the  rising  moon. 
Although  it  would  have  been  physically  impossible  for  our  heroine 
to  advance  without  the  aid  of  the  friendly  light,  which  now  gleamed 
on  the  long  line  of  level  land  before  her,  yet  she  was  not  encouraged 
to  proceed.  If  she  could  see  the  goal  of  her  wishes,  she  could  also 
perceive  the  difficulties  that  must  attend  her  reaching  it. 

While  deliberating  in  distressing  incertitude,  now  shrinking  with 
the  timidity  of  her  sex  and  years  from  the  enterprise,  and  now  re- 
solving to  rescue  her  brother  at  every  hazard,  Frances  turned  her 
looks  towards  the  east,  in  earnest  gaze  at  the  clouds  which  constantly 
threatened  to  involve  her  again  in  comparative  darkness.  Had  an 
adder  stung  her,  she  could  not  have  sprung  with  greater  celerity 
than  she  recoiled  from,  the  object  against  which  she  was  leaning,  and 
which  she,  for  the  first  time,  noticed.  The  two  upright  posts,  with  a 
cross-beam  on  their  tops,  and  a rude  platform  beneath,  told  but  toe 
plainly  the  nature  of  the  structure ; even  the  cord  was  suspended 
from  an  iron  staple,  and  was  swinging,  to  and  fro,  in  the  night  air. 


402 


T HE  SPY. 


Frances  hesitated  no  longer,  but  rather  flew  than  ran  across  the 
meadow,  and  was  soon  at  the  base  of  the  rock,  where  she  hoped  to 
find  something  like  a path  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  Here 
she  was  compelled  to  pause  for  breath,  and  she  improved  the  leisure 
by  surveying  the  ground  about  her.  The  ascent  was  quite  abrupt, 
but  she  soon  found  a sheep-path  that  wound  among  the  shelving 
rocks  and  through  the  trees,  so  as  to  render  her  labour  much  less 
tiresome  than  it  otherwise  would  have  been.  Throwing  a fearful 
glance  behind,  the  determined  girl  commenced  her  journey  upwards. 
Young,  active,  and  impelled  by  her  generous  motive,  she  moved  up 
the  hill  with  elastic  steps,  and  very  soon  emerged  from  the  cover  of 
the  woods,  into  an  open  space  of  more  level  ground,  that  had  evi- 
dently been  cleared  of  its  timber,  for  the  purpose  of  cultivation.  But 
either  the  war,  or  the  sterility  of  the  soil,  had  compelled  the  adven- 
turer to  abandon  the  advantages  that  he  had  obtained  over  the  wil- 
derness, and  already  the  bushes  and  briers  were  springing  up  afresh, 
as  if  the  plough  had  never  traced  its  furrows  through  the  mould 
which  nourished  them. 

Frances  felt  her  spirits  invigorated  by  these  faint  vestiges  of  the 
labour  of  man,  and  she  walked  up  the  gentle  acclivity,  with  renewed 
hopes  of  success.  The  path  now  diverged  in  so  many  different  direc- 
tions, that  she  soon  saw  it  would  be  useless  to  follow  their  windings, 
and  abandoning  it,  at  the  first  turn,  she  laboured  forward  towards 
what  she  thought  was  the  nearest  point  of  the  summit.  The  cleared 
ground  was  soon  past,  and  woods  and  rocks,  clinging  to  the  preci- 
pitous sides  of  the  mountain,  again  opposed  themselves  to  her  pro- 
gress. Occasionally,  the  path  was  to  be  seen  running  along  the  verge 
of  the  clearing,  and  then  striking  off  into  the  scattering  patches  of 
grass  and  herbage,  but  in  no  instance  could  she  trace  it  upward. 
Tufts  of  wool,  hanging  to  the  briers,  sufficiently  denoted  the  origin 
of  these  tracks,  and  Frances  rightly  conjectured  that  whoever  de- 
scended the  mountain,  would  avail  himself  of  their  existence,  to 
lighten  the  labour.  Seating  herself  on  a stone,  the  wearied  girl 


THE  SPY. 


403 


again  paused  to  rest  and  to  reflect : the  clouds  were  rising  before 
the  moon;  and  the  whole  scene  at  her  feet  lay  pictured  in  the  softest 
colours. 

The  white  tents  of  the  militia  were  stretched  in  regular  lines,  im- 
mediately beneath  her.  The  light  was  shining  in  the  window  of  hei 
aunt,  who,  Frances  easily  fancied,  was  watching  the  mountain,  racked 
with  all  the  anxiety  she  might  be  supposed  to  feel  for  her  niece. 
Lanterns  were  playing  about  in  the  stable-yard,  where  she  knew  the 
horses  of  the  dragoons  were  kept,  and  believing  them  to  be  preparing 
for  their  night  march,  she  again  sprang  upon  her  feet,  and  renewed 
her  toil. 

Our  heroine  had  to  ascend  more  than  a quarter  of  a mile  farther, 
although  she  had  already  conquered  two-tliirds  of  the  height  of  the 
mountain.  But  she  was  now  without  a path,  or  any  guide  to  direct 
her  in  her  course.  Fortunately,  the  hill  was  conical,  like  most  of 
the  mountains  in  that  range,  and,  by  advancing  upwards,  she  was 
certain  of  at  length  reaching  the  desired  hut,  which  hung,  as  it  were, 
on  the  very  pinnacle.  Nearly  an  hour  did  she  struggle  with  the 
numerous  difficulties  that  she  was  obliged  to  overcome,  when,  having 
been  repeatedly  exhausted  with  her  efforts,  and,  in  several  instances, 
in  great  danger  from  falls,  she  succeeded  in  gaining  the  small  piece 
of  table-land  on  the  summit. 

Faint  with  her  exertions,  which  had  been  unusually  severe  for  so 
slight  a frame,  she  sank  on  a rock,  to  recover  her  strength  and  forti- 
tude for  the  approaching  interview.  A few  moments  sufficed  for  this 
purpose,  when  she  proceeded  in  quest  of  the  hut.  All  of  the  neigh- 
bouring hills  were  distinctly  visible  by  the  aid  of  the  moon,  and 
Frances  was  able,  where  she  stood,  to  trace  the  route  of  the  high- 
way, from  the  plains  into  the  mountains.  By  following  this  line 
with  her  eyes,  she  soon  discovered  the  point  whence  she  had  seen 
the  mysterious  dwelling,  and  directly  opposite  to  that  point  she  well 
(mew  tne  hut  must  stand. 

The  chilling  air  sighed  through  the  leafless  branches  of  the  gnarled 


404 


THE  SPY. 


/. 


and  crooked  oaks,  as  with  a step  so  light  as  hardly  to  rustle  the  dry 
leaves  on  which  she  trod,  Frances  moved  forward  to  that  part  of  the 
hill  where  she  expected  to  find  this  secluded  habitation ; but  nothing 
could  she  discern  that  in  the  least  resembled  a dwelling  of  any  sort. 
In  vain  she  examined  every  recess  of  the  rocks,  or  inquisitively  ex- 
plored every  part  of  the  summit  that  she  thought  could  hold  the 
tenement  of  the  pedler.  No  hut,  nor  any  vestige  of  a human  being, 
could  she  trace.  The  idea  of  her  solitude  struck  on  the  terrified 
mind  of  the  affrighted  girl,  and  approaching  to  the  edge  of  a shelv- 
ing rock,  she  bent  forward  to  gaze  on  the  signs  of  life  in  the  vale, 
when  a ray  of  keen  light  dazzled  her  eyes,  and  a warm  air  diffused 
itself  over  her  whole  frame.  Recovering  from  her  surprise,  Frances 
looked  on  the  ledge  beneath  her,  and  at  once  perceived  that  she  stood 
directly  over  the  object  of  her  search.  A hole  through  its  roof 
afforded  a passage  to  the  smoke,  which  as  it  blew  aside,  showed  her 
a clear  and  cheerful  fire  crackling  and  snapping  on  a rude  hearth  of 
stone.  The  approach  to  the  front  of  the  hut  was  by  a winding  path 
around  the  point  of  the  rock  on  which  she  stood,  and  by  this  she 
advanced  to  its  door. 

Three  sides  of  this  singular  edifice,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  were 
composed  of  logs  laid  alternately  on  each  other,  to  a little  more  than 
the  height  of  a man ; and  the  fourth  was  formed  by  the  rock  against 
which  it  leaned.  The  roof  was  made  of  the  bark  of  trees,  laid  in 
long  strips  from  the  rock  to  its  eaves;  the  fissures  between  the  logs 
had  been  stuffed  with  clay,  which  in  many  places  had  fallen  out,  and 
dried  leaves  were  made  use  of  as  a substitute  to  keep  out  the  wind. 
A single  window  of  four  panes  of  glass  was  in  front,  but  a board 
carefully  closed  it,  in  such  a manner  as  to  emit  no  light,  from  the 
fire  within.  After  pausing  some  time  to  view  this  singularly  con- 
structed hiding-place,  for  such  Frances  well  knew  it  to  be,  she  ap- 
plied her  eye  to  a crevice  to  examine  the  inside.  There  was  no  lamp 
or  candle,  but  the  blazing  fire  of  dry  wood  made  the  interior  of  the 
hut  light  enough  to  read  by.  In  one  corner  lay  a bed  of  straw,  with 


THE  SPY. 


405 


a pair  of  blankets  thrown  carelessly  over  it,  as  if  left  where  they 
had  last  been  used.  Against  the  walls  and  rock  were  suspended, 
from  pegs  forced  intu  the  crevices,  various  garments,  and  such  as 
were  apparently  fitted  for  all  ages  and  conditions,  and  for  either  sex. 
British  and  American  uniforms  hung  peaceably  by  the  side  of  each 
other ; and  on  the  peg  that  supported  a gown  of  striped  calico,  such 
as  was  the  usual  country  wear,  was  also  depending  a well-powdered 
wig : in  short,  the  attire  was  numerous,  and  as  various  as  if  a whole 
parish  were  to  be  equipped  from  this  one  wardrobe. 

In  the  angle  against  the  rock,  and  opposite  to  the  fire  which  was 
burning  in  the  other  corner,  was  an  open  cupboard,  that  held  a plate 
or  two,  a mug,  and  the  remains  of  some  broken  meat.  Before  the 
fire  was  a table,  with  one  of  its  legs  fractured,  and  made  of  rough 
boards ; these,  with  a single  stool,  composed  the  furniture,  if  we  ex- 
cept a few  articles  of  cooking.  A book  that,  by  its  size  and  shape, 
appeared  to  be  a Bible,  was  lying  on  the  table,  unopened.  But  it 
was  the  occupant  of  the  hut  in  whom  Frances  was  chiefly  interested. 
This  was  a man,  sitting  on  the  stool,  with  his  head  leaning  on  his 
hand,  in  such  a manner  as  to  conceal  his  features,  and  deeply  occu- 
pied in  examining  some  open  papers.  On  the  table  lay  a pair  of 
curiously  and  richly  mounted  horseman’s  pistols,  and  the  handle  of 
a sheathed  rapier,  of  exquisite  workmanship,  protruded  from  between 
the  legs  of  the  gentleman,  one  of  whose  hands  carelessly  rested  on 
its  guard.  The  tall  stature  of  this  unexpected  tenant  of  the  hut, 
and  his  form,  much  more  athletic  than  that  of  either  Harvey  or  her 
brother,  told  Frances,  without  the  aid  of  his  dress,  that  it  was  neither 
of  those  she  sought.  A close  surtout  was  buttoned  high  in  the 
throat  of  the  stranger,  and  parting  at  his  knees,  showed  breeches  of 
buff,  with  military  boots  and  spurs.  His  hair  was  dressed  so  as  to 
expose  the  whole  face;  and,  after  the  fashion  of  that  day,  it  was 
profusely  powdered.  A round  hat  was  laid  on  the  stones  that  formed 
a paved  floor  to  the  hut,  as  if  to  make  room  for  a large  map,  which, 
among  the  other  papers,  occupied  the  table. 


406 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


This  was  an  unexpected  event  to  our  adventurer.  She  had  been 
so  confident  that  the  figure  twice  seen  was  the  pedler,  that  on  learn- 
ing his  agency  in  her  brother’s  escape,  she  did  not  in  the  least  doubt 
of  finding  them  both  in  the  place,  which,  she  now  discovered,  was 
occupied  by  another  and  a stranger.  She  stood,  earnestly  looking 
through  the  crevice,  hesitating  whether  to  retire,  or  to  wait  with  the 
expectation  of  yet  meeting  Henry,  as  the  stranger  moved  his  hand 
from  before  his  eyes,  and  raised  his  face,  apparently  in  deep  musing, 
when  Frances  instantly  recognised  the  benevolent  and  strongly 
marked,  but  composed,  features  of  Harper. 

All  that  Dunwoodie  had  said  of  his  power  and  disposition ; all 
that  he  had  himself  promised  her  brother,  and  all  the  confidence 
that  had  been  created  by  his  dignified  and  paternal  manner,  rushed 
across  the  mind  of  Frances,  who  threw  open  the  door  of  the  hut,  and 
falling  at  his  feet,  clasped  his  knees  with  her  arms,  as  she  cried  — 

“ Save  him  — save  him  — save  my  brother ; remember  your  pro- 
mise, and  save  him !” 

Harper  had  risen  as  the  door  opened,  and  there  was  a slight  move- 
ment of  one  hand  towards  his  pistols ; but  it  was  cool,  and  instantly 
checked.  He  raised  th^hood  of  the  cardinal,  which  had  fallen  over 
her  features,  and  exclaimed,  with  some  uneasiness  — 

“ Miss  Wharton  ! But  you  cannot  be  alone  ?” 
u There  is  none  here  but  my  God  and  you ; and  by  his  sacred 
name,  I conjure  you  to  remember  your  promise,  and  save  my  bro- 
ther I” 

Harper  gently  raised  her  from  her  knees,  and  placed  her  on  the 
stool,  begging  her  at  the  same  time  to  be  composed,  and  to  acquaint 
him  with  the  nature  of  her  errand.  This  Frances  instantly  did,  in- 
genuously admitting  him  to  a knowledge  of  all  her  Hews  in  visiting 
that  lone  spot  at  such  an  hour,  and  by  herself. 

It  was  at  all  times  difficult  to  probe  the  thoughts  of  one  who  held 
his  passions  in  such  disciplined  subjection  as  Harper,  but  still  there 
was  a lighting  of  his  thoughtful  eye,  and  a slight  unbending  of  his 


THE  STY. 


407 


muscles,  as  the  hurried  and  anxious  girl  proceeded  in  her  narrative. 
His  interest,  as  she  dwelt  upon  the  manner  of  Henry’s  escape,  and 
the  flight  to  the  woods,  was  deep  and  manifest,  and  he  listened  to 
the  remainder  of  her  tale  with  a marked  expression  of  benevolent 
indulgence.  Her  apprehensions,  that  her  brother  might  still  be  too 
late  through  the  mountains,  seemed  to  have  much  weight  with  him, 
for,  as  she  concluded,  he  walked  a turn  or  two  across  the  hut,  in 
silent  musing. 

Frances  hesitated,  and  unconsciously  played  with  the  handle  of 
one  of  the  pistols,  and  the  paleness  that  her  fears  had  spread  over 
her  fine  features  began  to  give  place  to  a rich  tint,  as,  after  a short 
pause,  she  added  — 

u We  can  depend  much  on  the  friendship  of  Major  Dunwoodie, 
but  his  sense  of  honour  is  so  pure,  that  — that  — notwithstanding 
his  — his  — feelings  — his  desire  to  serve  us  — he  will  conceive  it 
to  be  his  duty  to  apprehend  my  brother  again.  Besides,  he  thinks 
there  will  be  no  danger  in  so  doing,  as  he  relies  greatly  on  your  in- 
terference.” 

Cl  On  mine !”  said  Harper,  raising  his  eyes  in  surprise. 

u Yes,  on  yours.  When  we  told  him  of  your  kind  language,  he 
at  once  assured  us  all,  that  you  had  the  power,  and  if  you  had  pro- 
mised, would  have  the  inclination,  to  procure  Henry’s  pardon.” 

“ Said  he  more  ?”  asked  Harper,  who  appeared  slightly  uneasy. 

“ Nothing  but  reiterated  assurances  of  Henry’s  safety;  even  now 
ho  is  in  quest  of  you.” 

u Miss  Wharton,  that  I bear  no  mean  part,  in  the  unhappy  strug- 
gle between  England  and  America,  it  might  now  be  useless  to  deny. 
You  owe  your  brother’s  escape,  this  night,  to  my  knowledge  of  his 
innocence,  and  the  remembrance  of  my  word.  Major  Dunwoodie  is 
mistaken,  when  he  says  that  I might  openly  have  procured  his  par- 
don. I now,  indeed,  can  control  his  fate,  and  I pledge  to  you  a 
word  which  has  some  influence  with  Washington,  that  means  shall 
be  taken  to  prevent  his  re-capture.  But  from  you,  also,  I exact  a 


408 


THE  SPY. 


promise,  that  this  interview,  and  all  that  has  passed  between  us,  re- 
main confined  to  your  own  bosom,  until  you  have  my  permission  to 
speak  upon  the  subject.” 

Frances  gave  the  desired  assurance,  and  he  continued  — 
u The  pedler  and  your  brother  will  soon  be  here,  but  I must  not 
be  seen  by  the  royal  officer,  or  the  life  of  Birch  might  be  the  for- 
feiture.” 

“ Never!”  cried  Frances,  ardently;  “ Henry  could  never  be  so 
base  as  to  betray  the  man  who  saved  him.” 

“ It  is  no  childish  game  that  we  are  now  playing,  Miss  Wharton. 
Men’s  lives  and  fortunes  hang  upon  slender  threads,  and  nothing 
must  be  left  to  accident  that  can  be  guarded  against.  Did  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  know  that  the  pedler  had  communion  with  me,  and  under 
such  circumstances,  the  life  of  the  miserable  man  would  be  taken 
instantly ; therefore,  as  you  value  human  blood,  or  remember  the 
rescue  of  your  brother,  be  prudent,  and  be  silent.  Communicate 
what  you  know  to  them  both,  and  urge  them  to  instant  departure. 
If  they  can  reach  the  last  pickets  of  our  army  before  morning,  it 
shall  be  my  care  that  there  are  none  to  intercept  them.  There  is 
better  work  for  Major  Dunwoodie  than  to  be  exposing  the  life  of  his 
friend.” 

While  Harper  was  speaking,  he  carefully  rolled  up  the  map  he 
had  been  studying,  and  placed  it,  together  with  sundry  papers  that 
were  also  open,  into  his  pocket.  He  was  still  occupied  in  this  man- 
ner, when  the  voice  of  the  pedler,  talking  in  unusually  loud  tones, 
was  heard  directly  over  their  heads. 

“ Stand  further  this  way,  Captain  Wharton,  and  you  can  see  the 
tents,  in  the  moonshine.  But  let  them  mount  and  ride ; I have  a 
nest,  here,  that  will  hold  us  both,  and  we  will  go  in  at  our  leisure.” 
u And  where  is  this  nest  Z I confess  that  I have  eaten  but  little 
the  last  two  days,  and  I crave  some  of  the  cheer  you  mention  ” 

“ Hem  !”  said  the  pedler,  exerting  his  voice  still  more ; u hem  — 
this  fog  nas  given  me  a cold ; but  move  slow  — and  be  careful  not 


THE  S P Y . 


409 


to  slip,  or  you  may  land  on  the  bayonet  of  the  sentinel  on  the  hats ; 
’tis  a steep  hill  to  rise,  but  one  can  go  down  it  with  ease.” 

Harper  pressed  his  finger  on  his  lip,  to  remind  Frances  of  her 
promise,  and,  taking  his  pistols  and  hat,  so  that  no  vestige  of  his 
visit  remained,  he  retired  deliberately  to  a far  corner  of  the  hut, 
where,  lifting  several  articles  of  dress,  he  entered  a recess  in  the 
rock,  and,  letting  them  fall  again,  was  hid  from  view.  Frances  no- 
ticed, by  the  strong  fire-light,  as  he  entered,  that  it  was  a natural 
cavity,  and  contained  nothing  but  a few  more  articles  of  domestic  use. 

The  surprise  of  Henry  and  the  pedler,  on  entering  and  finding 
Frances  in  possession  of  the  hut,  may  be  easily  imagined.  Without 
waiting  for  explanations  or  questions,  the  warm-hearted  girl  flew  into 
the  arms  of  her  brother,  and  gave  a vent  to  her  emotions  in  tears. 
But  the  pedler  seemed  struck  with  very  different  feelings.  His  first 
look  was  at  the  fire,  which  had  been  recently  supplied  with  fuel ; he 
then  drew  open  a small  drawer  of  the  table,  and  looked  a little 
alarmed  at  finding  it  empty. 

“Are  you  alone,  Miss  Fanny/”  he  asked,  in  a quick  voice;  “you 
did  not  come  here  alone  ?” 

“As  you  see  me,  Mr.  Birch,”  said  Frances,  raising  herself  from 
her  brother’s  arms,  and  turning  an  expressive  glance  towards  the 
secret  cavern,  that  the  quick  eye  of  the  pedler  instantly  understood. 

“ But  why  and  wherefore  are  you  here  ?”  exclaimed  her  astonished 
brother ; “ and  how  knew  you  of  this  place  at  all  ?” 

Frances  entered  at  once  into  a brief  detail  of  what  had  occurred  at 
the  house  since  their  departure,  and  the  motives  which  induced  her 
to  seek  them. 

“ But,”  said  Birch,  “ why  follow  us  here,  when  we  were  left  on 
the  opposite  hill?” 

Frances  related  the  glimpse  that  she  had  caught  of  the  hut  and 
pedler,  in  her  passage  through  the  Highlands,  as  well  as  her  view 
of  him  on  that  day,  and  her  immediate  conjecture  that  the  fugitives 
would  seek  the  shelter  of  this  habitation  for  the  night.  Birch  exa- 

18 


410 


THE  SPY. 


mined  her  features  as,  with  open  ingenuousness,  she  related  the  sim- 
ple incidents  that  had  made  her  mistress  of  his  secret;  and,  as  she 
ended,  he  sprang  upon  his  feet,  and,  striking  the  window  with  the 
stick  in  his  hand,  demolished  it  at  a blow. 

“’Tis  but  little  luxury  or  comfort  that  I know,”  he  said,  “ but. 
even  that  little  cannot  be  enjoyed  in  safety!  Miss  Wharton,”  he 
added,  advancing  before  Fanny,  and  speaking  with  the  hitter  melan- 
choly that  was  common  to  him,  “ I am  hunted  through  these  hills 
like  a beast  of  the  forest ; but  whenever,  tired  with  my  toils,  I can 
reach  this  spot,  poor  and  dreary  as  it  is,  I can  spend  my  solitary 
nights  in  safety.  Will  you  aid  to  make  the  life  of  a wretch  still 
more  miserable  ?” 

“ Never!”  cried  Frances,  with  fervour;  “your  secret  is  safe 
with  me.” 

“ Major  Dunwoodie — ” said  the  pedler,  slowly,  turning  an  eye  * 
upon  her  that  read  her  soul. 

Frances  lowered  her  head  upon  her  bosom,  for  a moment,  in 
shame ; then,  elevating  her  fine  and  glowing  face,  she  added,  with 
enthusiasm  — 

“ Never,  never,  Harvey,  as  God  may  hear  my  prayers !” 

The  pedler  seemed  satisfied ; for  he  drew  back,  and,  watching  his 
opportunity,  unseen  by  Henry,  slipped  behind  the  screen,  and  entered 
the  cavern. 

Frances  and  her  brother,  who  thought  his  companion  had  passed 
through  the  door,  continued  conversing  on  the  latter’s  situation  for 
several  minutes,  when  the  former  urged  the  necessity  of  expedition 
on  his  part,  in  order  to  precede  Dunwoodie,  from  whose  sense  of 
duty  they  knew  they  had  no  escape.  The  Captain  took  out  his 
pocket-book,  and  wrote  a few  lines  with  his  pencil ; then  folding  the 
paper,  he  handed  it  to  his  sister. 

“Frances,”  he  said,  “you  have  this  night  proved  yourself  to  be 
an  incomparable  woman.  As  you  love  me,  give  that  unopened  to 
Dunwoodie,  and  remember  that  two  hours  may  save  my  life.” 


THE  spy, 


411 


“I  will  — I will;  but  why  delay?  Why  not  fly,  and  improve 
these  precious  moments?” 

“Your  sister  says  well,  Captain  Wharton,”  exclaimed  Harvey, 
who  had  re-entered  unseen;  “we  must  go  at  once.  Here  is  food  to 
eat,  as  we  travel.” 

“ But  who  is  to  see  this  fair  creature  in  safety?”  cried  the  Captain. 
“ I can  never  desert  my  sister  in  such  a place  as  this.” 

“ Leave  me ! leave  me  !”  said  Frances ; “ I can  descend  as  I came 
up.  Do  not  doubt  me ; you  know  not  my  courage  nor  my  strength.” 

“ I have  not  known  you,  dear  girl,  it  is  true ; but  now,  as  I learn 
your  value,  can  I quit  you  here  ? Never,  never !” 

“ Captain  Wharton,”  said  Birch,  throwing  open  the  door,  “ you 
can  trifle  with  your  own  lives,  if  you  have  many  to  spare ; I have 
but  one,  and  must  nurse  it.  Do  I go  alone,  or  not  ?” 

“ Go,  go,  dear  Henry,”  said  Frances,  embracing  him ; “ go ; re- 
member our  father;  remember  Sarah.”  She  waited  not  for  his 
answer,  but  gently  forced  him  through  the  door,  and  closed  it  with 
her  own  hands. 

For  a short  time  there  was  a warm  debate  between  Henry  and  the 
pedler ; but  the  latter  finally  prevailed,  and  the  breathless  girl  heard 
the  successive  plunges,  as  they  went  down  the  sides  of  the  mountain 
at  a rapid  rate. 

Immediately  after  the  noise  of  their  departure  had  ceased,  Harper 
re-appeared.  He  took  the  arm  of  Frances  in  silence,  and  led  her 
from  the  hut.  The  way  seemed  familiar  to  him ; for,  ascending  to 
the  ledge  above  them,  he  led  his  companion  across  the  table-land 
tenderly,  pointing  out  the  little  difficulties  in  their  route,  and  cau- 
tioning her  against  injury. 

Frances  felt,  as  she  walked  by  the  side  of  this  extraordinary  man, 
that  she  was  supported  by  one  of  no  common  stamp.  The  firmness 
of  his  step,  and  the  composure  of  his  manner,  seemed  to  indicate  a 
mind  settled  and  resolved.  By  taking  a route  over  the  back  of  the 
hill,  they  descended  with  great  expedition,  and  but  little  danger 


412 


THE  SPY. 


The  distance  it  had  taken  Frances  an  hour  to  conquer,  was  passed 
by  Harper  and  his  companion  in  ten  minutes,  and  they  entered  the 
open  space  already  mentioned.  He  struck  into  one  of  the  sheep- 
paths,  and,  crossing  the  clearing  with  rapid  steps,  they  came  suddenly 
upon  a horse,  caparisoned  for  a rider  of  no  mean  rank.  The  noble 
beast  snorted  and  pawed  the  earth,  as  his  master  approached  and 
replaced  the  pistols  in  the  holsters. 

Harper  then  turned,  and,  taking  the  hand  of  Frances,  spoke  as 
follows : — 

“ You  have  this  night  saved  your  brother,  Miss  Wharton.  It 
would  not  be  proper  for  me  to  explain  why  there  are  limits  to  my 
ability  to  serve  him ; but  if  you  can  detain  the  horse  for  two  hours, 
he  is  assuredly  safe.  After  what  you  have  already  done,  I can  be- 
lieve you  equal  to  any  duty.  God  has  denied  to  me  children,  young 
lady;  but  if  it  had  been  his  blessed  will  that  my  marriage  should 
not  have  been  childless,  such  a treasure  as  yourself  would  I have 
asked  from  his  mercy.  But  you  are  my  child  : all  who  dwell  in  this 
broad  land  are  my  children,  and  my  care ; and  take  the  blessing  of 
one  who  hopes  yet  to  meet  you  in  happier  days.” 

As  he  spoke,  with  a solemnity  that  touched  Frances  to  the  heart, 
he  laid  his  hand  impressively  upon  her  head.  The  guileless  girl 
turned  her  face  towards  him,  and  the  hood  again  falling  back,  ex- 
posed her  lovely  features  to  the  moonbeams.  A tear  was  glistening 
on  either  cheek,  and  her  mild  blue  eyes  were  gazing  upon  him  in 
reverence.  Harper  bent  and  pressed  a paternal  kiss  upon  her  fore- 
head, and  continued  — “Any  of  these  sheep-paths  will  take  you  to 
the  plain ; but  here  we  must  part  — I have  much  to  do,  and  far  to 
ride ; forget  me  in  all  but  your  prayers.” 

He  then  mounted  his  horse,  and  lifting  his  hat,  rode  towards  the 
back  of  the  mountain,  descending  at  the  same  time,  and  was  soon 
hid  by  the  trees.  Frances  sprang  forward  with  a lightened  heart, 
and  taking  the  first  path  that  led  downwards,  in  a few  minutes  she 
reached  the  plain  in  safety.  While  busied  in  stealing  through  the 


T HE  S P Y. 


413 


meadows  towards  the  house,  the  noise  of  horse  approaching  startled 
her,  and  she  felt  how  much  more  was  to  be  apprehended  from  man, 
in  some  situations,  than  from  solitude.  Hiding  her  form  in  the 
angle  of  a fence  near  the  road,  she  remained  quiet  for  a moment, 
and  watched  their  passage.  A small  party  of  dragoons,  whose  dress 
was  different  from  the  Virginians,  passed  at  a brisk  trot.  They 
were  followed  by  a gentleman,  enveloped  in  a large  cloak,  whom  she 
at  once  knew  to  be  Harper.  Behind  him  rode  a black  in  livery, 
and  two  youths  in  uniform  brought  up  the  rear.  Instead  of  taking 
the  road  that  led  by  the  encampment,  they  turned  short  to  the  left, 
and  entered  the  hills. 

Wondering  who  this  unknown  but  powerful  friend  of  her  brother 
could  be,  Frances  glided  across  the  fields,  and  using  due  precautions 
in  approaching  the  dwelling,  regained  her  residence  undiscovered 
and  in  safety. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


Hence,  bashful  cunning 
And  prompt  me,  plain  and  holy  innocence ; 

I am  your  wife,  if  you  will  marry  me. 

Tempest. 

On  joining  Miss  Peyton,  Frances  learnt  that  Dunwoodie  was  ao1 
yet  returned  * although,  with  a view  to  relieve  Henry  from  the  irm 
portunities  of  the  supposed  fanatic,  he  had  desired  a very  respectable 
divine  of  their  own  church  to  ride  up  from  the  river  and  offer  his 
services.  This  gentleman  was  already  arrived,  and  had  been  passing 
the  half-hour  he  had  been  there,  in  a sensible  and  well-bred  conver- 
sation with  the  spinster,  that  in  no  degree  touched  upon  their  do- 
mestic affairs. 

To  the  eager  enquiries  of  Miss  Peyton,  relative  to  her  success  in 
her  romantic  excursion,  Frances  could  say  no  more  than  that  she 
was  bound  to  be  silent,  and  to  recommend  the  same  precaution  to 
the  good  maiden  also.  There  was  a smile  playing  around  the  beau- 
tiful mouth  of  Frances,  while  she  uttered  this  injunction,  which 
satisfied  her  aunt  that  all  was  as  it  should  be.  She  was  urging  her 
niece  to  take  some  refreshment  after  her  fatiguing  expedition,  when 
the  noise  of  a horseman  riding  to  the  door,  announced  the  return  of 
the  Major.  He  had  been  found  by  the  courier,  who  was  despatched 
by  Mason,  impatiently  waiting  the  return  of  Harper  to  the  ferry, 
and  immediately  flew  to  the  place  where  his  friend  had  been  con- 
fined, tormented  by  a thousand  conflicting  fears.  The  heart  of 
Frances  bounded  as  she  listened  to  his  approaching  footsteps.  It 
wanted  yet  an  hour  to  the  termination  of  the  shortest  period  that  the 


THE  SPY. 


415 


pedler  had  fixed  as  the  time  necessary  to  effect  his  escape  Even 
Harper,  powerful  and  well-disposed  as  he  acknowledged  himself  to 
be,  had  laid  great  stress  upon  the  importance  of  detaining  the  Vir- 
ginians during  that  hour.  She,  however,  had  not  time  to  rally  her 
thoughts,  before  Dunwoodie  entered  one  door,  as  Miss  Peyton,  with 
the  readiness  of  female  instinct,  retired  through  another. 

The  countenance  of  Peyton  was  flushed,  and  an  air  of  vexation 
and  disappointment  pervaded  his  manner. 

“?Twas  imprudent,  Frances;  nay,  it  was  unkind,”  he  cried, 
throwing  himself  in  a chair,  “ to  fly  at  the  very  moment  that  I had 
assured  him  of  safety ! I can  almost  persuade  myself  that  you  de- 
light in  creating  points  of  difference  in  our  feelings  and  duties.” 

“ In  our  duties  there  may  very  possibly  be  a difference,”  returned 
his  mistress,  approaching,  and  leaning  her  slender  form  against  the 
wall;  “but  not  in  our  feelings,  Peyton.  You  must  certainly  rejoice 
in  the  escape  of  Henry!” 

“ There  was  no  danger  impending.  He  had  the  promise  of  Har- 
per ; and  it  is  a word  never  to  be  doubted.  Oh  ! Frances  I Frances ! 
had  you  known  the  man,  you  would  never  have  distrusted  his  assu- 
rance; nor  would  you  have  again  reduced  me  to  this  distressing 
alternative.” 

“ What  alternative  ?”  asked  Frances,  pitying  his  emotions  deeply, 
but  eagerly  seizing  upon  every  circumstance  to  prolong  the  interview. 

“ What  alternative ! am  I not  compelled  to  spend  this  night  in 
the  saddle  to  recapture  your  brother,  when  I had  thought  to  lay 
my  head  on  its  pillow,  with  the  happy  consciousness  of  having  con- 
tributed to  his  release  ? You  make  me  seem  your  enemy;  I,  who 
would  cheerfully  shed  the  last  drop  of  blood  in  your  service.  I 
repeat,  Frances,  it  was  rash ; it  was  unkind ; it  was  a sad,  sad  mis- 
take.” 

She  bent  towards  him,  and  timidly  took  one  of  his  hands,  while 
with  the  other  she  gently  removed  the  curls  from  his  burning  brow 

“Why  go  at  all,  dear  Peyton?”  she  asked.  “You  have  done 


416 


THE  SPY. 


much  for  your  country,  and  she  cannot  exact  such  a sacrifice  as  thi< 
at  your  hand.” 

“ Frances ! Miss  Wharton !”  exclaimed  the  youth,  springing  on 
his  feet,  and  pacing  the  floor  with  a cheek  that  burnt  through  its 
brown  covering,  and  an  eye  that  sparkled  with  wounded  integrity ; 
“ it  is  not  my  country,  but  my  honour,  that  requires  the  sacrifice. 
Has  he  not  fled  from  a guard  of  my  own  corps?  Bat  for  this,  I 
might  have  been  spared  the  blow ! But  if  the  eyes  of  the  Virgi- 
nians are  blinded  to  deception  and  artifice,  their  horses  are  swift  of 
foot,  and  their  sabres  keen.  We  shall  see,  before  to-morrow’s  sun, 
who  will  presume  to  hint  that  the  beauty  of  the  sister  furnished  a 
mask  to  conceal  the  brother  ! Yes,  yes;  I should  like,  even  now,” 
he  continued,  laughing  bitterly,  “ to  hear  the  villain  who  would  dare 
to  surmise  that  such  treachery  existed !” 

“ Peyton,  dear  Peyton,”  said  Frances,  recoiling  from  his  angry 
eye,  “ you  curdle  my  blood  — would  you  kill  my  brother  ?” 

“ Would  1 not  die  for  him  i”  exclaimed  Dunwoodie,  as  he  turned 
to  her  more  mildly;  “you  know  I would;  but  I am  distracted  with 
the  cruel  surmise  to  which  this  step  of  Henry’s  subjects  me.  What 
will  Washington  think  of  me,  should  he  learn  that  I ever  became 
your  husband  ?” 

“ If  that  alone  impels  you  to  act  so  harshly  towards  my  brother,” 
returned  Frances,  with  a slight  tremor  in  her  voice,  “ let  it  never 
happen  for  him  to  learn.” 

“ And  this  is  consolation,  Frances !” 

“ Nay,  dear  Dunwoodie,  I meant  nothing  harsh  or  unkind ; but 
are  you  not  making  us  both  of  more  consequence  with  Washington 
than  the  truth  will  justify  ?” 

“ I trust  that  my  name  is  not  entirely  unknown  to  the  Commander- 
in-chief,”  said  the  Major,  a little  proudly;  “nor  are  you  as  obscure 
as  your  modesty  would  make  you.  I believe  you,  Frances,  when 
you  say  that  you  pity  me,  and  it  must  be  my  task  to  continue  worthy 
of  such  feelings.  But  I waste  the  precious  moments ; we  must  go 


THE  SPY. 


417 


through  the  hills  to-night,  that  we  may  be  refreshed  in  time  for  the 
duly  of  to-morrow.  Mason  is  already  waiting  my  orders  to  mount. 
Frances,  I leave  you  with  a heavy  heart ; pity  me,  but  feel  no  con- 
cern for  your  brother;  he  must  again  become  a prisoner,  but  every 
hair  of  his  head  is  sacred.” 

“ Stop ! Dunwoodie,  I conjure  you,”  cried  Frances,  gasping  for 
breath,  as  she  noticed  that  the  hand  of  the  clock  still  wanted  many 
minutes  to  the  desired  hour;  “ before  you  go  on  your  errand  of 
fastidious  duty,  read  this  note  that  Henry  has  left  for  you,  and 
which,  doubtless,  he  thought  he  was  writing  to  the  friend  of  his 
youth.” 

“ Frances,  I excuse  your  feelings;  but  the  time  will  come  when 
you  will  do  me  justice.” 

“ That  time  is  now,”  she  answered,  extending  her  hand,  unable 
any  longer  to  feign  a displeasure  that  she  did  not  feel. 

“ Where  got  you  this  note  ?”  exclaimed  the  youth,  glancing  his 
eyes  over  its  contents.  “ Poor  Henry,  you  are  indeed  my  friend  ! 
If  any  one  wishes  me  happiness,  it  is  you  !” 

“ He  does,  he  does,”  cried  Frances,  eagerly ; “ he  wishes  you 
every  happiness ; believe  what  he  tells  you ; every  word  is  true.” 

“ I do  believe  him,  lovely  girl,  and  he  refers  me  to  you  for  its 
confirmation.  Would  that  I could  trust  equally  to  your  affections  !” 

“ You  may,  Peyton,”  said  Frances,  looking  up  with  innocent  con 
fidence  towards  her  lover. 

“Then  read  for  yourself,  and  verify  your  words,”  interrupted 
Dunwoodie,  holding  the  note  towards  her. 

Frances  received  it  in  astonishment,  and  read  the  following : — 

“ Life  is  too  precious  to  be  trusted  to  uncertainties.  I leave  you , 
Peyton , unknown  to  all  but  Ccesar , and  I recommend  him  to  your 
mercy.  But  there  is  a care  that  weighs  me  to  the  earth.  Look  at 
my  aged  and  infirm  parent.  He  will  be  reproached  for  the  sup- 
posed crime  of  his  son.  Look  at  those  helpless  sisters  that  I leave 

behind  me  ivithout  a protector.  Prove  to  me  that  you  love  us  all. 

18  * 


418 


THE  SPY. 


Let  the  clergyman  whom  you  will  bring  with  you , unite  you  this 
night  to  Frances , and  become  at  once , brother , son,  and  husband .” 

The  paper  fell  from  the  hands  of  Frances,  and  she  endeavoured 
to  raise  her  eyes  to  the  face  of  Dunwoodie,  but  they  sank  abashed 
to  the  floor. 

“ Am  I worthy  of  this  confidence  ? Will  you  send  me  out  this 
night,  to  meet  my  own  brother  ? or  will  it  be  the  officer  of  Congress 
in  quest  of  the  officer  of  Britain  ?” 

“And  would  you  do  less  of  your  duty  because  I am  your  wife, 
Major  Dunwoodie?  in  what  degree  would  it  better  the  condition  of 
Henry  ?” 

“ Henry,  I repeat,  is  safe.  The  word  of  Harper  is  his  guarantee ; 
but  I will  show  the  world  a bridegroom,”  continued  the  youth,  per- 
haps deceiving  himself  a little,  “ who  is  equal  to  the  duty  of  arrest- 
ing the  brother  of  his  bride.” 

“And  will  the  world  comprehend  this  refinement  ?”  said  Frances, 
with  a musing  air,  that  lighted  a thousand  hopes  in  the  bosom  of  her 
lover.  In  fact,  the  temptation  was  mighty.  Indeed,  there  seemed 
no  other  way  to  detain  Dunwoodie  until  the  fatal  hour  had  elapsed. 
The  words  of  Harper  himself,  who  had  so  lately  told  her  that  openly 
he  could  do  but  little  for  Henry,  and  that  every  thing  depended 
upon  gaining  time,  were  deeply  engraved  upon  her  memory.  Per- 
haps there  was  also  a fleeting  thought  of  the  possibility  of  an  eternal 
separation  from  her  lover,  should  he  proceed  and  bring  back  her 
brother  to  punishment.  It  is  difficult  at  all  times  to  analyse  human 
emotions,  and  they  pass  through  the  sensitive  heart  of  a woman  with 
the  rapidity  and  nearly  with  the  vividness  of  lightning. 

“ Why  do  you  hesitate,  dear  Frances  ?”  cried  Dunwoodie,  who 
was  studying  her  varying  countenance ; “a  few  minutes  might  give 
me  a husband’s  claim  to  protect  you.” 

Frances  grew  giddy.  She  turned  an  anxious  eye  to  the  clock, 
and  the  hand  seemed  to  linger  over  its  face,  as  if  with  intent  to  tor- 
ture her. 


THE  a P Y . 


419 


u Speak,  Frances,”  murmured  Dunwoodie ; “ may  I summon  my 
good  kinswoman  ? determine,  for  time  presses.” 

She  endeavoured  to  reply,  but  could  only  whisper  something  that 
was  inaudible,  but  which  her  lover,  with  the  privilege  of  immemorial 
custom,  construed  into  assent.  He  turned  and  flew  to  the  doc 
when  his  mistress  recovered  her  voice  — 

“ Stop,  Peyton ! I cannot  enter  into  such  a solemn  engagement 
with  a fraud  upon  my  conscience.  I have  seen  Henry  since  his 
escape,  and  time  is  all-important  to  him.  Here  is  my  hand ; if,  with 
this  knowledge  of  the  consequences  of  delay,  you  will  not  reject  it, 
it  is  freely  yours.” 

u Beject  it !”  cried  the  delighted  youth ; u I take  it  as  the  richest 
gift  of  Heaven.  There  is  time  enough  for  us  all.  Two  hours  will 
take  me  through  the  hills ; and  by  noon,  to-morrow,  I will  return 
with  Washington’s  pardon  for  your  brother,  and  Henry  will  help  to 
enliven  our  nuptials.” 

u Then  meet  me  here,  in  ten  minutes,”  said  Frances,  greatly  re- 
lieved by  unburthening  her  mind,  and  filled  with  the  hope  of  securing 
Henry’s  safety,  u and  I will  return  and  take  those  vows,  which  will 
bind  me  to  you  for  ever.” 

Dunwoodie  paused  only  to  press  her  once  to  his  bosom,  and  flew 
to  communicate  his  wishes  to  the  priest. 

Miss  Peyton  received  the  avowal  of  her  niece  with  infinite  aston- 
ishment, and  a little  displeasure.  It  was  violating  all  the  order  and 
decorum  of  a wedding  to  get  it  up  so  hastily,  and  with  so  little  cere- 
mony. But  Frances,  with  modest  firmness,  declared  that  her  resolu- 
tion was  taken ; she  had  long  possessed  the  consent  of  her  friends, 
and  their  nuptials,  for  months,  had  only  waited  her  pleasure.  She 
had  now  promised  Dunwoodie,  and  it  was  her  wish  to  comply ; more 
she  dare  not  say  without  committing  herself,  by  entering  into  expla- 
nations that  might  endanger  Birch,  or  Harper,  or  both.  Unused  to 
contention,  and  really  much  attached  to  her  kinsman,  the  feeble 
objections  of  Miss  Peyton  gave  way  to  the  firmness  of  her  niece. 


420 


THE  SPY. 


Mr.  Wharton  was  too  completely  a convert  to  the  doctrine  of  pas 
sive  obedience  and  non-resistance,  to  withstand  any  solicitation  from 
an  officer  of  Dunwoodie’s  influence  in  the  rebel  armies;  and  the 
maid  returned  to  the  apartment,  accompanied  by  her  father  and  aunt, 
at  the  expiration  of  the  time  that  she  had  fixed.  Dunwoodie  and 
the  clergyman  were  already  there.  Frances,  silently,  and  without 
the  affectation  of  reserve,  placed  in  his  hand  the  wedding-ring  of  hei 
own  mother,  and  after  some  little  time  spent  in  arranging  Mr.  Whar- 
ton and  herself,  Miss  Peyton  suffered  the  ceremony  to  proceed. 

The  clock  stood  directly  before  the  eyes  of  Frances,  and  she 
turned  many  an  anxious  glance  at  the  dial ; but  the  solemn  language 
of  the  priest  soon  caught  her  attention,  and  her  mind  became  intent 
upon  the  vows  she  was  uttering.  The  ceremony  was  quickly  over, 
and  as  the  clergyman  closed  the  words  of  benediction,  the  clock  told 
the  hour  of  nine.  This  was  the  time  that  Harper  had  deemed  so 
important,  and  Frances  felt  as  if  a mighty  load  was  at  once  removed 
from  her  heart. 

Dunwoodie  folded  her  in  his  arms,  saluted  the  mild  aunt  again 
and  again,  and  shook  Mr.  Wharton  and  the  divine  repeatedly  by  the 
hands.  In  the  midst  of  the  felicitation,  a tap  was  heard  at  the  door 
It  was  opened,  and  Mason  appeared. 

“We  are  in  the  saddle,”  said  the  Lieutenant,  “and,  with  your 
permission,  I will  lead  on;  as  you  are  so  well  mounted,  you  can 
overtake  us  at  your  leisure.” 

“Yes,  yes,  my  good  fellow;  march,”  cried  Dunwoodie,  gladly 
seizing  an  excuse  to  linger ; “ I will  reach  you  at  the  first  halt.” 

The  subaltern  retired  to  execute  these  orders ; he  was  followed  by 
Mr.  Wharton  and  the  divine. 

“Now,  Peyton,”  said  Frances,  “it  is  indeed  a brother  that  you 
seek ; I am  sure  I need  not  caution  you  in  his  behalf,  should  you 
unfortunately  find  him.” 

“ Say  fortunately,”  cried  the  youth ; “ for  I am  determined  he 
shall  yet  dance  at  my  wedding.  Would  that  I could  win  him  to  out 


THE  SPY. 


42  L 


cause ! it  is  the  cause  of  his  country ; and  I could  fight  with  more 
pleasure;  Frances,  with  your  brother  by  my  side.” 

“ Oh  ! mention  it  not ! you  awaken  terrible  reflections.” 

“ I will  not  mention  it,”  retui  ned  her  husband ; “ but  I must  now 
leave  you.  But  the  sooner  I go,  Frances,  the  sooner  I shall  return.” 

The  noise  of  a horseman  was  heard  approaching  the  house,  and 
Dunwoodie  was  yet  taking  leave  of  his  bride  and  her  aunt,  when  an 
officer  was  shown  into  the  room  by  his  own  man. 

The  gentleman  wore  the  dress  of  an  aid-de-camp,  and  the  Major 
at  once  knew  him  to  be  one  of  the  military  family  of  Washington. 

“ Major  Dunwoodie,”  he  said,  after  bowing  to  the  ladies,  “ the 
Commander-in-chief  has  directed  me  to  give  you  these  orders.” 

He  executed  his  mission,  and,  pleading  duty,  took  his  leave  im- 
mediately. 

“Here,  indeed!”  cried  the  Major,  “is  an  unexpected  turn  in  the 
whole  affair;  but  I understand  it;  Harper  has  got  my  letter,  and 
already  we  feel  his  influence.” 

“ Have  you  news  affecting  Henry  ?”  cried  Frances,  springing  to 
his  side. 

“Listen,  and  you  shall  judge.” 

“ Sir — Upon  the  receipt  of  this , you  will  concentrate  your 
squadron , so  as  to  he  in  front  of  a covering  party  which  the  enemy 
has  sent  up  in  front  of  his  foragers , by  ten  o'clock  to-morrow , on 
the  heights  of  Croton , where  you  will  find  a body  of  foot  to  support 
you.  The  escape  of  the  English  spy  has  been  reported  to  me , but 
his  arrest  is  unimportant. , compared  with  the  duty  I now  assign  you. 
You  will , therefore , recall  your  men , if  any  are  in  pursuit , and  en- 
deavour to  defeat  the  enemy  forthwith. 

“ Your  obedient  Servant . 

“Geo.  Washington.” 

“ Thank  God !”  cried  Dunwoodie,  “ my  hands  are  washed  of 
Henry’s  recapture ; I can  now  move  to  my  duty  with  honour.” 

“And  with  prudence  too,  dear  Peyton,”  said  Frances,  with  a face 


422 


T II  E SPY. 


as  pale  as  death;  u remember,  Dunwoodie,  you  leave  behind  you 
new  claims  on  your  life.” 

The  youth  dwelt  on  her  lovely  but  pallid  features  with  rapture ) 
and,  as  he  folded  her  to  his  heart,  exclaimed  — 

“ For  your  sake,  I will,  lovely  innocent  l”  Frances  sobbed  a mo- 
ment on  his  bosom,  and  he  tore  himself  from  her  presence. 

Miss  Peyton  retired  with  her  niece,  to  whom  she  conceived  it  ne- 
cessary, before  they  separated  for  the  night,  to  give  an  admonitory 
lecture  on  the  subject  of  matrimonial  duty.  Her  instruction  was 
modestly  received,  if  not  properly  digested.  We  regret  that  history 
has  not  handed  down  to  us  this  precious  dissertation ; but  the  result 
of  all  our  investigation  has  been  to  learn  that  it  partook  largely  of 
those  peculiarities  which  are  said  to  tincture  the  rules  prescribed  to 
govern  bachelors’  children.  We  shall  now  leave  the  ladies  of  the 
Wharton  family,  and  return  to  Captain  Wharton  and  Harvey  Birch. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


Allow  him  not  a parting  word ; 

Short  be  the  shrift,  and  sure  the  cord  ! 

Rokehy 

The  pedler  and  his  companion  soon  reached  the  valley,  and  after 
pausing  to  listen,  and  hearing  no  sounds  which  announced  that  pur- 
suers were  abroad,  they  entered  the  highway.  Acquainted  witn 
every  step  that  led  through  the  mountains,  and  possessed  of  sinews 
inured  to  toil,  Birch  led  the  way,  with  the  lengthened  strides  that 
were  peculiar  to  the  man  and  his  profession ; his  pack  alone  was 
wanting  to  finish  the  appearance  of  his  ordinary  business  air.  At 
times,  when  they  approached  one  of  those  little  posts  held  by  the 
American  troops,  with  which  the  Highlands  abounded,  he  would 
take  a circuit  to  avoid  the  sentinels*  and  plunge  fearlessly  into  a 
thicket,  or  ascend  a rugged  hill,  that  to  the  eye  seemed  impassable. 
But  the  pedler  was  familiar  with  every  turn  in  their  difficult  route, 
knew  where  the  ravines  might  be  penetrated,  or  where  the  streams 
were  fordable.  In  one  or  two  instances,  Henry  thought  that  their 
further  progress  was  absolutely  at  an  end,  but  the  ingenuity,  or 
knowledge,  of  his  guide,  conquered  every  difficulty.  After  walking 
at  a great  rate  for  three  hours,  they  suddenly  diverged  from  the  road, 
which  inclined  to  the  east,  and  held  their  course  directly  across  the 
hills,  in  a due  south  direction.  This  movement  was  made,  the 
pedler  informed  his  companion,  in  order  to  avoid  the  parties  who 
constantly  patroled  in  the  southern  entrance  of  the  Highlands,  as 
well  as  to  shorten  the  distance,  by  travelling  in  a straight  line.  After 


424 


THE  SPY. 


reaching  the  summit  of  a hill,  Harvey  seated  himself  by  the  side  ol 
a little,  run,  and  opening  a wallet,  that  he  had  slung  where  his  pack 
was  commonly  suspended,  he  invited  his  comrade  to  partake  of  the 
coarse  fare  it  contained.  Henry  had  kept  pace  with  the  pedler, 
more  by  the  excitement  natural  to  his  situation,  than  by  the  equality 
of  his  physical  powers.  The  idea  of  a halt  was  unpleasant,  so  long 
as  there  existed  a possibility  of  the  horse  getting  below  him,  in  time 
to  intercept  their  retreat  through  the  neutral  ground.  He,  therefore, 
stated  his  apprehensions  to  his  companion,  and  urged  a wish  to  proceed. 

u Follow  my  example,  Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  pedler,  com- 
mencing his  frugal  meal ; u if  the  horse  have  started,  it  will  be  more 
than  man  can  do  to  head  them ; and  if  they  have  not,  work  is  cut 
out  for  them,  that  will  drive  all  thoughts  of  you  and  me  from  their 
brains.” 

“ You  said  yourself,  that  two  hours’  detention  wad  all-important 
to  us,  and  if  we  loiter  here,  of  what  use  will  be  the  advantage  that 
we  may  have  already  obtained?” 

u The  time  is  passed,  and  Major  Dunwoodie  thinks  little  of  fol- 
lowing two  men,  when  hundreds  are  waiting  for  him  on  the  banks 
of  the  river.” 

u Listen  !”  interrupted  Henry ; u there  are  horse  at  this  moment 
passing  the  foot  of  the  hill.  I hear  them  even  laughing  and  talk- 
ing to  each  other  Hist ! there  is  the  voice  of  Dunwoodie  himself ; 
he  calls  to  his  comrade  in  a manner  that  shows  but  little  uneasiness. 
One  would  think  that  the  situation  of  his  friend  would  lower  his 
spirits;  surely  Frances  could  not  have  given  him  the  letter.” 

On  hearing  the  first  exclamation  of  the  Captain,  Birch  arose  from 
his  seat,  and  approached  cautiously  to  the  brow  of  the  h 11,  taking 
care  to  keep  his  body  in  the  shadow  of  the  rocks,  so  as  to  be  unseen 
at  any  distance,  and  earnestly  reconnoitred  the  group  of  passing 
horsemen.  He  continued  listening,  until  their  quick  footsteps  were 
no  longer  audible,  and  then  quietly  returned  to  his  seat,  and  with 
incomparable  coolness  resumed  his  meal. 


THE  SPY. 


425 


u You  have  a long  walk,  and  a tiresome  one,  before  you,  Captain 
Wharton ; you  had  better  do  as  I do  — you  were  eager  for  food  at 
the  hut  above  Fishkill,  but  travelling  seems  to  have  worn  down  your 
appetite.” 

u I thought  myself  safe  then,  but  the  information  of  my  sister 
fills  me  with  uneasiness,  and  I cannot  eat.” 

u You  have  less  reason  to  be  troubled  now  than  at  any  time  since 
the  night  before  you  were  taken,  when  you  refused  my  advice,  and 
an  offer  to  see  you  in,  in  safety,”  returned  the  pedler.  u Major 
Dunwoodie  is  not  a man  to  laugh  and  be  gay,  when  his  friend  is  in 
difficulty.  Come,  then,  and  eat,  for  no  horse  will  be  in  our  way,  if 
we  can  hold  our  legs  for  four  hours  longer,  and  the  sun  keeps  behind 
the  hills  as  long  as  common.” 

There  was  a composure  in  the  pedler’ s manner  that  encouraged 
his  companion ; and  having  once  determined  to  submit  to  Harvey’s 
government,  he  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded  into  a tolerable 
supper,  if  quantity  be  considered  without  any  reference  to  the  qua- 
lity. After  completing  their  repast,  the  pedler  resumed  his 
journey. 

Henry  followed  in  blind  submission  to  his  will.  For  two  hours 
more  they  struggled  with  the  difficult  and  dangerous  passes  of  the 
Highlands,  without  road,  or  any  other  guide  than  the  moon,  which 
was  travelling  the  heavens,  now  wading  through  flying  clouds,  and 
now  shining  brightly.  At  length  they  arrived  at  a point  where  the 
mountains  sunk  into  rough  and  unequal  hillocks,  and  passed  at  once 
from  the  barren  sterility  of  the  precipices,  to  the  imperfect  culture 
of  the  neutral  ground. 

The  pedler  now  became  more  guarded  in  the  manner  in  which 
they  proceeded,  and  took  divers  precautions  to  prevent  meeting  any 
moving  parties  of  the  Americans.  With  the  stationary  posts  he  was 
too  familiar  to  render  it  probable  he  might  fall  upon  any  of  them 
unawares.  He  wound  among  the  hills  and  vales,  now  keeping  the 
highways  and  now  avoiding  them,  with  a precision  that  seemed  in- 


426 


THE  SPY. 


stinctive.  There  was  nothing  elastic  in  his  tread,  but  he  glided 
over  the  ground  with  enormous  strides,  and  a body  bent  forward, 
without  appearing  to  use  exertion,  or  know  weariness. 

The  moon  had  set,  and  a faint  streak  of  light  was  beginning  to 
show  itself  in  the  east.  Captain  Wharton  ventured  to  express  a 
sense  of  fatigue,  and  to  enquire  if  they  were  not  yet  arrived  at  a 
part  of  the  country,  where  it  might  be  safe  to  apply  at  some  of  the 
farm-houses  for  admission. 

“ See  here,”  said  the  pedler,  pointing  to  a hill,  at  a short  distance 
in  their  rear ; “ do  you  not  see  a man  walking  on  the  point  of  that 
rock  ? Turn,  so  as  to  bring  the  daylight  in  the  range  — now,  see, 
he  moves,  and  seems  to  be  looking  earnestly  at  something  to  the 
eastward.  That  is  a royal  sentinel;  two  hundred  of  the  rigTar 
troops  lay  on  that  hill,  no  doubt  sleeping  on  their  arms.” 

“Then,”  cried  Henry,  “let  us  join  them,  and  our  danger  is 
ended.” 

“ Softly,  softly,  Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  pedler,  drily,  “ you  \e 
once  been  in  the  midst  of  three  hundred  of  them,  but  there  was  a 
man  who  could  take  you  out;  see  you  not  yon  dark  body,  on  the 
side  of  the  opposite  hill,  just  above  the  corn-stalks  ? There  are  the 
— the  rebels,  (since  that  is  the  word  for  us  loyal  subjects,)  waiting 
only  for  day,  to  see  who  will  be  master  of  the  ground.” 

“Nay,  then,”  exclaimed  the  fiery  youth,  “I  will  join  the  troops 
of  my  prince,  and  share  their  fortunes,  be  it  good  or  be  it  bad.” 

“You  forget  that  you  fight  with  a halter  round  your  neck;  no, 
no  — I have  promised  one  whom  I must  not  disappoint,  to  carry 
you  safe  in ; and  unless  you  forget  what  I have  already  done,  and 
what  I have  risked  for  you,  Captain  Wharton,  you  will  turn  and 
follow  me  to  Ilarlaem.” 

To  this  appeal  the  youth  felt  unwillingly  obliged  to  submit ; and 
they  continued  their  course  towards  the  city.  It  was  not  long  before 
they  gained  the  banks  of  the  Hudson.  After  searching  for  a short 
time  under  the  shore,  the  pedler  discovered  a skiff,  that  appeared  to 


THE  SPY. 


427 


be  an  old  acquaintance ; and  entering  it  with  his  companion,  he 
landed  him  on  the  south  side  of  the  Croton.  Here  Birch  declared 
they  were  in  safety  j for  the  royal  troops  held  the  continentals  at 
bay,  and  the  former  were  out  in  too  great  strength , for  the  light 
parties  of  the  latter  to  trust  themselves  below  that  river,  on  the  im- 
mediate banks  of  the  Hudson. 

Throughout  the  whole  of  this  arduous  flight,  the  pedler  had  mani- 
fested a coolness  and  presence  of  mind  that  nothing  appeared  to  dis- 
turb. All  his  faculties  seemed  to  be  of  more  than  usual  perfection, 
and  the  infirmities  of  nature  to  have  no  dominion  over  him.  Henry 
had  followed  him  like  a child  in  leading-strings,  and  he  now  reaped 
his  reward,  as  he  felt  a bound  of  pleasure  at  his  heart,  on  hearing 
that  he  was  relieved  from  apprehension,  and  permitted  to  banish 
every  doubt  of  security. 

A steep  and  laborious  ascent  brought  them  from  the  level  of  the 
tide-waters  to  the  high  lands,  that  form,  in  this  part  of  the  river, 
the  eastern  banks  of  the  Hudson.  Be  tiring  a little  from  the  high- 
way, under  the  shelter  of  a thicket  of  cedars,  the  pedler  threw  his 
form  on  a flat  rock,  and  announced  to  his  companion  that  the  hour 
for  rest  and  refreshment  was  at  length  arrived.  The  day  was  now 
opened,  and  objects  could  be  seen  in  the  distance,  with  distinctness. 
Beneath  them  lay  the  Hudson,  stretching  to  the  south  in  a straight 
line,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  To  the  north,  the  broken  frag- 
ments of  the  Highlands  threw  upwards  their  lofty  heads,  above 
masses  of  fog  that  hung  over  the  water,  and  by  which  the  course  of 
the  river  could  be  traced  into  the  bosom  of  hills,  whose  conical 
summits  were  grouping  together,  one  behind  another,  in  that  disor- 
der which  might  be  supposed  to  have  succeeded  their  gigantic,  but 
fruitless,  efforts  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  flood.  Emerging  from 
these  confused  piles,  the  river,  as  if  rejoicing  at  its  release  from  the 
struggle,  expanded  into  a wide  bay,  which  was  ornamented  by  a few 
fertile  and  low  points  that  jutted  humbly  into  its  broad  basin.  On 
the  opposite,  or  western  shore,  the  rocks  of  Jersey  were  gathered  into 


428 


THE  SPY. 


an  array  that  has  obtained  for  them  the  name  of  the  u palisadoes” 
elevating  themselves  for  many  hundred  feet,  as  if  to  protect  the  rich 
country  in  their  rear  from  the  inroads  of  the  conqueror ; but,  dis- 
daining such  an  enemy,  the  river  swept  proudly  by  their  feet,  and 
held  its  un deviating  way  to  the  ocean.  A ray  of  the  rising  sun 
darted  upon  the  slight  cloud  that  hung  over  the  placid  river,  and  at 
once  the  whole  scene  was  in  motion,  changing  and  assuming  new 
forms,  and  exhibiting  fresh  objects  in  each  successive  moment.  At 
the  daily  rising  of  this  great  curtain  of  nature,  at  the  present  time, 
scores  of  white  sails  and  sluggish  vessels  are  seen  thickening  on  the 
water,  with  that  air  of  life  which  denotes  the  neighbourhood  to  the 
metropolis  of  a great  and  flourishing  empire ; but  to  Henry  and  the 
pedler  it  displayed  only  the  square  yards  and  lofty  masts  of  a vessel 
of  war,  riding  a few  miles  below  them.  Before  the  fog  had  begun 
to  move,  the  tall  spars  were  seen  above  it,  and  from  one  of  them  a 
long  pennant  was  feebly  borne  abroad  in  the  current  of  night  air, 
that  still  quivered  along  the  river ; but  as  the  smoke  arose,  the  black 
hull,  the  crowded  and  complicated  mass  of  rigging,  and  the  heavy 
yards  and  booms,  spreading  their  arms  afar,  were  successively  brought 
into  view. 

u There,  Captain  Wharton,”  said  the  pedler,  u there  is  a safe  rest- 
ing-place for  you ; America  has  no  arm  that  can  reach  you,  if  you 
gain  the  deck  of  that  ship.  She  is  sent  up  to  cover  the  foragers,  and 
support  the  troops ; the  rigTar  officers  are  fond  of  the  sound  of  can- 
non from  their  shipping.” 

Without  condescending  to  reply  to  the  sarcasm  conveyed  in  this 
speech,  or  perhaps  not  noticing  it,  Henry  joyfully  acquiesced  in  the 
proposal,  and  it  was  accordingly  arranged  between  them,  that,  as 
soon  as  they  were  refreshed,  he  should  endeavour  to  get  on  board 
the  vessel. 

While  busily  occupied  in  the  very  indispensable  operation  of  break- 
ing their  fast,  our  adventurers  were  startled  with  the  sound  of  distant, 
fire-arms.  At  first  a few  scattering  shots  were,  fired,  which  were  sue- 


THE  SPY. 


429 


ceeded  by  a long  and  animated  roll  of  musketry,  and  then  quick  and 
heavy  volleys  followed  each  other. 

“ Your  prophecy  is  made  good,”  cried  the  English  officer,  spring- 
ing upon  his  feet.  “ Our  troops  and  the  rebels  are  at  it ! — I would 
give  six  months*  pay  to  see  the  charge.** 

“Uinpli!**  returned  his  companion,  without  ceasing  his  meal; 
" they  do  very  well  to  look  at  from  a distance  : I can*t  say  but  the 
company  of  this  bacon,  cold  as  it  is,  is  more  to  my  taste,  just  now, 
than  a hot  fire  from  the  continentals.** 

“ The  discharges  are  heavy  for  so  small  a force ; but  the  fire  seems 
irregular.** 

“ The  scattering  guns  are  from  the  Connecticut  militia,*1  said 
Harvey,  raising  his  head  to  listen;  “tn.j  rattle  it  off  finely,  and  are 
no  fools  at  a mark.  The  volleys  are  the  rigTars,  who,  you  know, 
fire  by  word  — as  long  as  they  can.** 

“ I like  not  the  warmth  of  what  you  call  a scattering  fire,**  ex- 
claimed the  Captain,  moving  about  with  uneasiness ; “ it  is  more  like 
the  roll  of  a drum  than  the  shooting  of  skirmishers.** 

“No,  no;  I said  not  skrimmagers,**  returned  the  other,  raising 
himself  upon  a knee,  and  ceasing  to  eat ; “so  long  as  they  stand, 
they  are  too  good  for  the  best  troops  in  the  royal  army.  Each  man 
does  his  work,  as  if  fighting  by  the  job ; and  then,  they  think  while 
they  fight,  and  don’t  send  bullets  among  the  clouds,  that  were  meant 
to  kill  men  upon  earth.** 

“ You  talk  and  look,  sir,  as  if  you  wished  them  success,**  said 
Henry,  sternly. 

“I  wish  success  to  the  good  cause  only,  Captain  Wharton.  I 
thought  you  knew  me  too  well,  to  be  uncertain  which  party  I fa- 
voured.** 

“Oh!  you  are  reputed  loyal,  Mr.  Birch.  — But  the  volleys  have 
ceased  !** 

Both  now  listened  intently  for  a little  wffiile,  during  which  the 


430 


THE  SPY. 


/ 


irregular  reports  became  less  brisk,  and  suddenly  heavy  and  repeated 
volleys  followed. 

“ They  We  been  at  the  bayonet,”  said  the  pedler ; “ the  rigTars 
have  tried  the  bayonet,  and  the  rebels  are  driven.” 

“Ay,  Mr.  Birch,  the  bayonet  is  the  thing  for  the  British  soldier, 
after  all.  They  delight  in  the  bayonet !” 

“Well,  to  my  notion,”  said  the  pedler,  “ there ’s  but  little  delight 
to  be  taken  in  any  such  fearful  weapon.  I dare  say  the  militia  are 
of  my  mind,  for  half  of  them  don’t  carry  the  ugly  things.  — Lord ! 
Lord ! Captain,  I wish  you  ’d  go  with  me  once  into  the  rebel  camp, 
and  hear  what  lies  the  men  will  tell  about  Bunker  Hill  and  Bur- 
g’yne : you  ’d  think  they  loved  the  bayonet  as  much  as  they  do  their 
dinners.” 

There  was  a chuckle,  and  an  air  of  affected  innocency  about  his 
companion,  that  rather  annoyed  Henry,  and  he  did  not  deign  to 
reply. 

The  firing  now  became  desultory,  occasionally  intermingled  with 
heavy  volleys.  Both  of  the  fugitives  were  standing,  listening  with 
much  anxiety,  when  a man,  armed  with  a musket,  was  seen  stealing 
towards  them,  under  the  shelter  of  the  cedar  bushes,  that  partially 
covered  the  hill.  Henry  first  observed  this  suspicious-looking  stranger, 
and  instantly  pointed  him  out  to  his  companion.  Birch  started,  and 
certainly  made  an  indication  of  sudden  flight ; but  recollecting  him- 
self, he  stood,  in  sullen  silence,  until  the  stranger  was  within  a few 
yards  of  them. 

“’Tis  friends,”  said  the  fellow,  clubbing  his  gun,  but  apparently 
afraid  to  venture  nearer. 

“ You  had  better  retire,”  said  Birch ; “ here  are  rigTars  at  hand. 
We  are  not  near  Dunwoodie’s  horse  now,  and  you  will  not  find  me 
an  easy  prize  to-day.” 

“ Damn  Major  Dunwoodie  and  his  horse !”  cried  the  leader  of  the 
Skinners  (for  it  was  he) ; “ God  bless  King  George  ! and  a speedy 
end  to  the  rebellion,  say  I.  If  you  would  show  me  the  safe  way  in 


THE  SPY. 


431 


to  the  refugees,  Mr.  "Birch,  I 'll  pay  you  well,  and  ever  after  stand 
your  friend,  in  the  bargain." 

“ The  road  is  as  open  to  you  as  to  me,"  said  Birch,  turning  from 
him  in  ill-concealed  disgust;  “if  you  want  to  find  the  refugees,  you 
know  well  where  they  lay." 

“Ay,  but  I hn  a little  doubtful  of  going  in  upon  them  by  myself : 
now,  you  are  well  known  to  them  all,  and  it  will  be  no  detriment  to 
you  just  to  let  me  go  in  with  you." 

Henry  here  interfered,  and  after  holding  a short  dialogue  with  the 
fellow,  he  entered  into  a compact  with  him,  that,  on  condition  of 
surrendering  his  arms,  he  might  join  the  party.  The  man  complied 
instantly,  and  Birch  received  his  gun  with  eagerness ; nor  did  he  lay 
it  upon  his  shoulder  to  renew  their  march,  before  he  had  carefully 
examined  the  priming,  and  ascertained,  to  his  satisfaction,  that  it 
contained  a good  dry  ball-cartridge. 

As  soon  as  this  engagement  was  completed,  they  commenced  their 
journey  anew.  By  following  the  bank  of  the  river,  Birch  led  the 
way  free  from  observation,  until  they  reached  the  point  opposite  to 
the  frigate,  when,  by  making  a signal,  a boat  was  induced  to  approach. 
Some  time  was  spent,  and  much  precaution  used,  before  the  seamen 
would  trust  themselves  ashore ; but  Henry  having  finally  succeeded 
in  making  the  officer  who  commanded  the  party  credit  his  assertions, 
ae  was  able  to  rejoin  his  companions  in  arms  in  safety.  Before  tak- 
ing leave  of  Birch,  the  Captain  handed  him  his  purse,  which  was 
tolerably  well  supplied  for  the  times ; the  pedler  received  it,  and, 
watching  an  opportunity,  he  conveyed  it,  unnoticed  by  the  Skinner, 
to  a part  of  his  dress  that  was  ingeniously  contrived  to  hold  such 
treasures. 

The  boat  pulled  from  the  shore,  and  Birch  turned  on  his  heel, 
drawing  his  breath  like  one  relieved,  and  shot  up  the  hills  with  the 
strides  for  which  he  was  famous.  The  Skinner  followed,  and  each 
party  pursued  the  common  course  casting  frequent  and  suspicious 


432 


THE  SPY. 


glances  at  the  other,  and  both  maintaining  a most  impenetrable 
silence. 

Wagons  were  moving  along  the  river  road,  and  occasional  parties 
of  horse  were  seen  escorting  the  fruits  of  the  inroad  towards  the  city. 
As  the  pedler  had  views  of  his  own,  he  rather  avoided  falling  in 
with  any  of  these  patrols,  than  sought  their  protection.  But,  after 
travelling  a few  miles  on  the  immediate  banks  of  the  mer,  during 
which,  notwithstanding  the  repeated  efforts  of  the  Skinner  to  esta- 
blish something  like  sociability,  he  maintained  a most  determined 
silence,  keeping  a firm  hold  of  the  gun,  and  always  maintaining  a 
jealous  watchfulness  of  his  associate,  the  pedler  suddenly  struck 
into  the  highway,  with  an  intention  of  crossing  the  hills  towards 
Harlaem.  At  the  moment  he  gained  the  path,  a body  of  horse 
came  over  a little  eminence,  and  was  upon  him  before  he  perceived 
them.  It  was  too  late  to  retreat,  and  after  taking  a view  of  the  ma- 
terials that  composed  this  party,  Birch  rejoiced  in  the  rencontre,  as 
a probable  means  of  relieving  him  from  his  unwelcome  companion. 
There  were  some  eighteen  or  twenty  men,  mounted  and  equipped  as 
dragoons,  though  neither  their  appearance  nor  manners  denoted 
much  discipline.  At  their  head  rode  a heavy,  middle-aged  man, 
whose  features  expressed  as  much  of  animal  courage,  and  as  little  of 
reason,  as  could  be  desired  for  such  an  occupation.  He  wore  the 
dress  of  an  officer,  but  there  was  none  of  that  neatness  in  his  attire, 
nor  grace  in  his  movements,  that  was  usually  found  about  the  gen- 
tlemen who  bore  the  royal  commission.  His  limbs  were  firm,  and 
not  pliable,  and  he  sat  his  horse  with  strength  and  confidence,  but 
his  bridle-hand  would  have  been  ridiculed  by  the  meanest  rider 
amongst  the  Virginians.  As  he  expected,  this  leader  instantly 
hailed  the  pedler,  in  a voice  by  no  means  more  conciliating  than  his 
appearance. 

iC  Hey ! my  gentlemen,  which  way  so  fast  ?”  he  cried.  “ Has 
Washington  sent  you  down  as  spies  ?” 


THE  SPY. 


433 


“ I am  an  innocent  pedler,”  returned  Harvey,  meekly,  c(  and  am 
going  below,  to  lay  in  a fresh  stock  of  goods.” 

1 And  how  do  you  expect  to  get  below,  my  innocent  pedler  ? Ho 
you  think  we  hold  the  forts  at  Kingsbridge  to  cover  such  peddling 
rascals  as  you,  in  your  goings  in,  and  comings  out  ?” 

“ I believe  I hold  a pass  that  will  carry  me  through,”  said  the 
pedler,  handing  him  a paper,  with  an  air  of  great  indifference. 

The  officer,  for  such  he  was,  read  it,  and  cast  a look  of  surprise 
and  curiosity  at  Harvey,  when  he  had  done. 

Then  turning  to  one  or  two  of  his  men.  who  had  officiously  stopped 
the  way,  he  cried  — 

“ Why  do  you  detain  the  man  ? give  way,  and  let  him  pass  in 
peace  : but  who  have  we  here  ? your  name  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
pass !” 

“No,  sir,”  said  the  Skinner,  lifting  his  hat  with  humility;  “I 
have  been  a poor  deluded  man,  who  has  been  serving  in  the  rebel 
army ; but,  thank  God,  I 've  lived  to  see  the  error  of  my  ways,  and 
am  now  come  to  make  reparation,  by  enlisting  under  the  Lord's 
anointed.” 

“Umph!  a deserter  — a Skinner,  I'll  swear,  wanting  to  turn 
Cow-boy ! In  the  last  brush  I had  with  the  scoundrels,  I could 
hardly  tell  my  own  men  from  the  enemy.  We  are  not  over  well 
supplied  with  coats,  and  as  for  countenances,  the  rascals  change  sides 
so  often,  that  you  may  as  well  count  their  faces  for  nothing;  but 
trudge  on,  we  will  contrive  to  make  use  of  you,  sooner  or  later.” 

Ungracious  as  was  this  reception,  if  you  could  judge  of  the 
Skinner’s  feelings  from  his  manner,  it  nevertheless  delighted  him. 
He  moved  with  alacrity  towards  the  city,  and  really  was  so  happy  to 
escape  the  brutal  looks  and  frightful  manner  of  his  interrogator,  as 
to  lose  sight  of  all  other  considerations.  But  the  man  who  performed 
the  functions  of  orderly  in  the  irregular  troop,  rode  up  to  the  side 
of  his  commander,  and  commenced  a close  and  apparently  a confi- 
dential discourse  with  his  principal.  They  spoke  in  whispers,  and 

19 


434 


THE  SPY. 


cast  frequent  and  searching  glances  at  the  Skinner,  until  the  fellow 
began  to  think  himself  an  object  of  more  than  common  attention. 
His  satisfaction  at  this  distinction  was  somewhat  heightened,  at  ob- 
serving a smile  on  the  face  of  the  Captain,  which,  although  it  might 
be  thought  grim,  certainly  denoted  satisfaction.  This  pantomime 
occupied  the  time  they  were  passing  a hollow,  and  concluded  as  they 
rose  another  hill.  Here  the  Captain  and  his  sergeant  both  dismount- 
ed, and  ordered  the  party  to  halt.  The  two  partisans  each  took  a 
pistol  from  his  holster,  a movement  that  excited  no  suspicion  or 
alarm,  as  it  was  a precaution  always  observed,  and  beckoned  to  the 
pedler  and  the  Skinner  to  follow.  A short  walk  brought  them  to  a 
spot  where  the  hill  overhung  the  river,  the  ground  falling  nearly 
perpendicularly  to  the  shore.  On  the  brow  of  the  eminence  stood  a 
deserted  and  dilapidated  barn.  Many  boards  of  its  covering  were 
torn  from  their  places,  and  its  wide  doors  were  lying,  the  one  in 
front  of  the  building,  and  the  other  half-way  down  the  precipice, 
whither  the  wind  had  cast  it.  Entering  this  desolate  spot,  the  refugee 
officer  very  coolly  took  from  his  pocket  a short  pipe,  which,  from  long 
use,  had  acquired  not  only  the  hue  but  the  gloss  of  ebony,  a tobacco- 
box,  and  a small  roll  of  leather,  that  contained  steel,  flint,  and  tinder. 
With  this  apparatus,  he  soon  furnished  his  mouth  with  a companion 
that  habit  had  long  rendered  necessary  to  reflection.  So  soon  as  a 
large  column  of  smoke  arose  from  this  arrangement,  the  Captain 
significantly  held  forth  a hand  towards  his  assistant.  A small  cord 
was  produced  from  the  pocket  of  the  sergeant,  and  handed  to  the 
other.  The  refugee  threw  out  vast  pufls  of  smoke,  until  nearly  all 
of  his  head  was  obscured,  and  looked  around  the  building  with  an 
inquisitive  eye.  At  length  he  removed  the  pipe,  and  inhaling  a 
draught  of  pure  air,  returned  it  to  its  domicile,  and  proceeded  at 
once  to  business.  A heavy  piece  of  timber  lay  across  the  girths  of 
the  barn,  but  a little  way  from  the  southern  door,  which  opened 
directly  upon  a full  view  of  the  river,  as  it  stretched  far  away  to- 
wards the  bay  of  New  York.  Over  this  beam  the  refugee  threw 


THE  SPY. 


435 


one  end  of  the  rope,  and,  regaining  it,  joined  the  two  parts  in  his 
hand.  A small  and  weak  barrel,  that  wanted  a head,  the  staves  of 
which  were  loose,  and  at  one  end  standing  apart,  was  left  on  the 
floor,  probably  as  useless.  The  sergeant,  in  obedience  to  a look  from 
his  officer,  placed  it  beneath  the  beam.  All  of  these  arrangements 
were  made  with  immoveable  composure,  and  they  now  seemed  com- 
pleted to  the  officer’s  perfect  satisfaction. 

u Come,”  he  said  coolly  to  the  Skinner,  who,  admiring  the  pre- 
parations, had  stood  a silent  spectator  of  their  progress.  He  obeyed ; 
and  it  was  not  until  he  found  his  neckcloth  removed,  and  hat  thrown 
aside,  that  he  took  the  alarm.  But  he  had  so  often  resorted  to  a 
similar  expedient  to  extort  information,  or  plunder,  that  he  by  no 
means  felt  the  terror  an  unpractised  man  would  have  suffered,  at 
these  ominous  movements.  The  rope  was  adjusted  to  his  neck  with 
the  same  coolness  that  formed  the  characteristic  of  the  whole  move- 
ment, and  a fragment  of  board  being  laid  upon  the  barrel,  he  was 
ordered  to  mount. 

u But  it  may  fall,”  said  the  Skinner,  for  the  first  time  beginning 
to  tremble.  u I will  tell  you  any  thing  — even  how  to  surprise  our 
party  at  the  Pond,  without  all  this  trouble,  and  it  is  commanded  by 
my  own  brother.” 

u I want  no  information,”  returned  his  executioner,  (for  such  he 
now  seemed  really  to  be),  throwing  the  rope  repeatedly  over  the 
beam,  first  drawing  it  tight  so  as  to  annoy  the  Skinner  a little,  and 
then  casting  the  end  from  him,  beyond  the  reach  of  any  one. 

“ This  is  joking  too  far,”  cried  the  Skinner,  in  a tone  of  remon- 
strance, and  raising  himself  on  his  toes,  with  the  vain  hope  of  re- 
leasing himself  from  the  cord,  by  slipping  his  head  through  the 
noose.  But  the  caution  and  experience  of  the  refugee  officer  had 
guarded  against  this  escape. 

u What  have  you  done  with  the  horse  you  stole  from  me,  rascal  ?” 
muttered  the  officer  of  the  Cow-boys,  throwing  out  columns  of  smoke 
while  he  waited  for  a reply. 


436 


THE  SPY. 


“ He  broke  down  in  the  chase,”  replied  the  Skinner,  quickly ; 
u but  I can  tell  you  where  one  is  to  be  found  that  is  worth  him  and 
his  sire.” 

“ Liar ! I will  help  myself  when  I am  in  need ; you  had  better 
call  upon  God  for  aid,  as  your  hour  is  short.”  On  concluding  this 
consoling  advice,  he  struck  the  barrel  a violent  blow  with  his  heavy 
foot,  and  the  slender  staves  flew  in  every  direction,  leaving  the  Skin- 
ner whirling  in  the  air.  As  his  hands  were  unconfined,  he  threw 
them  upwards,  and  held  himself  suspended  by  main  strength. 

u Come,  captain,”  he  said,  coaxingly,  a little  huskiness  creeping 
into  his  voice,  and  his  knees  beginning  to  shake  with  tremour,  u end 
the  joke ; 't  is  enough  to  make  a laugh,  and  my  arms  begin  to  tire  — 
I can't  hold  on  much  longer.” 

u Harkee,  Mr.  Pedler,”  said  the  refugee,  in  a voice  that  would  not 
be  denied,  u I want  not  your  company.  Through  that  door  lies  your 
road  — march!  offer  to  touch  that  dog,  and  you'll  swing  in  his 
place,  though  twenty  Sir  Henries  wanted  your  services.”  So  say- 
ing, he  retired  to  the  road  with  the  sergeant,  as  the  pedler  precipi- 
tately retreated  down  the  bank. 

Birch  went  no  farther  than  a bush  that  opportunely  offered  itself 
as  a skreen  to  his  person,  while  he  yielded  to  an  unconquerable 
desire  to  witness  the  termination  of  this  extraordinary  scene. 

Left  alone,  the  Skinner  began  to  throw  fearful  glances  around,  to 
espy  the  hiding-places  of  his  tormentors.  For  the  first  time  the 
horrid  idea  seemed  to  shoot  through  his  brain  that  something  serious 
was  intended  by  the  Cow-boy.  He  called  entreatingly  to  be  re- 
leased, and  made  rapid  and  incoherent  promises  of  important  infor- 
mation, mingled  with  affected  pleasantry  at  their  conceit,  which  he 
would  hardly  admit  to  himself  could  mean  any  thing  so  dreadful  as 
it  seemed.  But  as  he  heard  the  tread  of  the  horses  moving  on  their 
course,  and  in  vain  looked  around  for  human  aid,  violent  trembling 
seized  his  limbs,  and  his  eyes  began  to  start  from  his  head  with 
terror.  He  made  a desperate  effort  to  reach  the  beam;  but,  too 


THE  SPY. 


437 


much  exhausted  with  his  previous  exertions,  he  caught  the  rope  in 
his  teeth,  in  a vain  effort  to  sever  the  cord,  and  fell  to  the  whole 
length  of  his  arms.  Here  his  cries  were  turned  into  shrieks  — 

“ Help  ! cut  the  rope  ! Captain  ! — Birch  ! good  pedler  ! Down 
with  the  Congress  ! — Sergeant ! — for  God’s  sake,  help  ! Hurrah 
for  the  king ! — Oh  God ! oh  God  ! — mercy  — mercy  — mercy  l” 

As  his  voice  became  suppressed,  one  of  his  hands  endeavoured  to 
make  its  way  between  the  rope  and  his  neck,  and  partially  suc- 
ceeded; but  the  other  fell  quivering  by  his  side.  A convulsive 
shuddering  passed  over  his  whole  frame,  and  he  hung  a hideous 
corse. 

Birch  continued  gazing  on  this  scene  with  a kind  of  infatuation. 
At  its  close  he  placed  his  hands  to  his  ears,  and  rushed  towards  the 
highway.  Still  the  cries  for  mercy  rang  through  his  brain,  and  it 
was  many  weeks  before  his  memory  ceased  to  dwell  on  the  horrid 
event.  The  Cow-boys  rode  steadily  on  their  route,  as  if  nothing 
had  occurred;  and  the  body  was  left  swinging  in  the  wind,  until 
chance  directed  the  footsteps  of  some  straggler  to  the  place. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


Green  be  the  turf  above  thee, 

Friend  of  my  better  days  ; 

None  knew  thee  but  to  love  thee, 

None  named  thee  but  to  praise. 

Halleck 

4 

While  the  scenes  and  events  tliat  we  have  recorded  were  occurring, 
Captain  Lawton  led  his  small  party,  by  slow  and  wary  marches,  from 
the  Four  Corners  to  the  front  of  a body  of  the  enemy;  wheie  he  so 
successfully  manoeuvred,  for  a short  time,  as  completely  to  elude  all 
their  efforts  to  entrap  him,  and  yet  so  disguised  his  own  force  as  to 
excite  the  constant  apprehension  of  an  attack  from  the  Americans. 
This  forbearing  policy,  on  the  side  of  the  partisan,  was  owing  to 
positive  orders  received  from  his  commander.  When  Dunwoodie 
left  his  detachment,  the  enemy  were  known  to  be  slowly  advancing, 
and  he  directed  Lawton  to  hover  around  them,  until  his  own  return, 
and  the  arrival  of  a body  of  foot,  might  enable  him  to  intercept  their 
retreat. 

The  trooper  discharged  his  duty  to  the  letter,  but  with  no  little 
of  the  impatience  that  made  part  of  his  character  when  restrained 
from  the  attack. 

During  these  movements,  Betty  Flanagan  guided  her  little  cart 
with  indefatigable  zeal  among  the  rocks  of  West-Chester,  now  dis- 
cussing with  the  sergeant  the  nature  of  evil  spirits,  and  now  combat- 
ing with  the  surgeon  sundry  points  of  practice  that  were  hourly 
arising  between  them.  But  the  moment  at  length  arrived  that  was 
to  decide  the  temporary  mastery  of  the  field.  A detachment  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


439 


eastern  militia  moved  out  from  their  fastnesses,  and  appioached  the 
enemy. 

The  junction  between  Lawton  and  his  auxiliaries  was  made  at 
midnight,  and  an  immediate  consultation  was  held  between  him  and 
the  leader  of  the  foot-soldiers.  After  listening  to  the  statements  of 
the  partisan,  who  rather  despised  the  prowess  of  his  enemy,  the 
commandant  of  the  party  determined  to  attack  the  British,  the  mo- 
ment daylight  enabled  him  to  reconnoitre  their  position,  without 
waiting  for  the  aid  of  Dunwoodie  and  his  horse.  So  soon  as  this 
decision  was  made,  Lawton  retired  from  the  building  where  the  con- 
sultation was  held,  and  rejoined  his  own  small  command. 

The  few  troopers  who  were  with  the  captain  had  fastened  their 
horses  in  a spot  adjacent  to  a haystack,  and  laid  their  own  frames 
under  its  shelter,  to  catch  a few  hours’  sleep.  But  Dr.  Sitgreaves, 
Sergeant  Hollister,  and  Betty  Flanagan  were  congregated  at  a short 
distance  by  themselves,  having  spread  a few  blankets  upon  the  dry 
surface  of  a rock.  Lawton  threw  his  huge  frame  by  the  side  of  the 
surgeon,  and  folding  his  cloak  about  him,  leaned  his  head  upon  one 
hand,  and  appeared  deeply  engaged  in  contemplating  the  moon  as  it 
waded  through  the  heavens.  The  sergeant  was  sitting  upright,  in 
respectful  deference  to  the  surgeon,  and  the  washerwoman  was  now 
raising  her  head,  in  order  to  vindicate  some  of  her  favourite  maxims, 
and  now  composing  it  on  one  of  her  gin-casks,  in  a vain  effort  to 
sleep. 

“So,  Sergeant,”  continued  Sitgreaves,  following  up  a previous 
position,  “ if  you  cut  upwards,  the  blow,  by  losing  the  additional 
momentum  of  your  weight,  will  be  less  destructive,  and  at  the  same 
time  effect  the  true  purposes  of  war,  that  of  disabling  your 
enemy.” 

“Pooh!  pooh!  Sargeant  dear,”  said  the  washerwoman,  raising 
her  head  from  the  blanket;  “ where ’s  the  harm  of  taking  a life,  jist 
in  the  way  of  battle  ? Is  it  the  rig’lars  who  T1  show  favour,  and 
they  fighting  ? Ask  Captain  Jack  there,  if  the  country  could  get 


440 


THE  SPY. 


the  liberty,  and  the  boys  no  strike  their  might.  I wouldVt  have 
them  disparage  the  whiskey  so  much.” 

“ It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  an  ignorant  female  like  yourself, 
Mrs.  Flanagan,”  returned  the  surgeon,  with  a calmness  that  only 
rendered  his  contempt  more  stinging  to  Betty,  “ can  comprehend  the 
distinctions  of  surgical  science;  neither  are  you  accomplished  in 
the  sword  exercise ; so  that  dissertations  upon  the  judicious  use  of 
that  weapon  could  avail  you  nothing,  either  in  theory  or  in 
practice.” 

“ It  ’s  but  little  I care,  any  way,  for  such  botherments ; but  fight- 
ing is  no  play,  and  a body  should  n’t  be  particular  how  they  strike, 
or  who  they  hit,  so  it ’s  the  inimy.” 

u Are  we  likely  to  have  a warm  day,  Captain  Lawton  ?” 

“’Tis  more  than  probable,”  replied  the  trooper;  “ these  militia 
seldom  fail  of  making  a bloody  field,  either  by  their  cowardice  or 
their  ignorance,  and  the  real  soldier  is  made  to  suffer  for  their  bad 
conduct.” 

“Are  you  ill,  John?”  said  the  surgeon,  passing  his  hand  along 
the  arm  of  the  Captain,  until  it  instinctively  settled  on  his  pulse ; 
but  the  steady,  even  beat  announced  neither  bodily  nor  mental 

malady. 

“ Sick  at  heart,  Archibald,  at  the  folly  of  our  rulers,  in  believing 
that  battles  are  to  be  fought,  and  victories  won,  by  fellows  who  han- 
dle a musket  as  they  would  a flail ; lads  who  wink  when  they  pull  a 
trigger,  and  form  a line  like  a hoop-pole.  The  dependence  we  place 
on  these  men  spills  the  best  blood  of  the  country.” 

The  surgeon  listened  with  amazement.  It  was  not  the  matter, 
but  the  manner  that  surprised  him.  The  trooper  had  uniformly  ex- 
hibited, on  the  eve  of  battle,  an  animation,  and  an  eagerness  to  en- 
gage, that  was  directly  at  variance  with  the  admirable  coolness  of  his 
manner  at  other  times.  But  now  there  was  a despondency  in  the 
tones  of  his  voice,  and  a listlessness  in  his  air,  that  was  entirely  dif- 
ferent. The  operator  hesitated  a moment,  to  reflect  in  what  manner 


THE  SPY. 


441 


he  could  render  this  change  of  service  in  furthering  his  favourite 
system  available,  and  then  continued  — 

“ It  would  be  wise,  John,  to  advise  the  Colonel  to  keep  at  long 
shot;  a spent  ball  will  disable — ” 

“No  !”  exclaimed  the  trooper,  impatiently;  “let  the  rascals  singe 
their  whiskers  at  the  muzzles  of  the  British  muskets,  if  they  can  be 
driven  there.  — But,  enough  of  them.  Archibald,  do  you  deem  that 
moon  to  be  a world  like  this,  containing  creatures  like  ourselves  ?” 
“Nothing  more  probable,  dear  John;  we  know  its  size,  and,  rea- 
soning from  analogy,  may  easily  conjecture  its  use.  Whether  or  not 
its  inhabitants  have  attained  to  that  perfection  in  the  sciences  which 
we  have  acquired,  must  depend  greatly  on  the  state  of  its  society, 
and  in  some  measure  upon  its  physical  influences.” 

“I  care  nothing  about  their  learning,  Archibald;  but  ’tis  a won- 
derful power  that  can  create  such  worlds,  and  control  them  in  their 
wanderings.  I know  not  why,  but  there  is  a feeling  of  melancholy 
excited  within  me  as  I gaze  on  that  body  of  light,  shaded  as  it  is  by 
your  fancied  sea  and  land.  It  seems  to  be  the  resting-place  of  de- 
parted spirits  !” 

“ Take  a drop,  darling,”  said  Betty,  raising  her  head  once  more, 
and  proffering  her  own  bottle ; “ ’t  is  the  night  damp  that  chills  the 
blood  — and  then  the  talk  with  the  cursed  militia  is  no  good  for  a 
fiery  temper.  Take  a drop,  darling,  and  ye  T1  sleep  till  the  morning. 
I fed  Boanoke  myself,  for  I thought  ye  might  need  hard  riding  the 
morrow.” 

“’Tis  a glorious  heaven  to  look  upon,”  continued  the  trooper,  in 
the  same  tone,  disregarding  the  offer  of  Betty,  “ and  ’t  is  a thousand 
pities  that  such  worms  as  men  should  let  their  vile  passions  deface 
such  goodly  work.” 

“You  speak  the  truth,  dear  John;  there  is  room  for  all  to  live 
and  enjoy  themselves  in  peace,  if  each  could  be  satisfied  with  his 
own.  Still,  war  has  its  advantages;  it  particulaiiy  promotes  the 
knowledge  of  surgery;  and — ” 


19* 


442 


T HE  SPY. 


“ There  is  a star/’  continued  Lawton,  still  bent  on  his  own  ideas, 
“ struggling  to  glitter  through  a few  driving  clouds ; perhaps  that 
too  is  a world,  and  contains  its  creatures  endowed  with  reason  like 
ourselves ; think  you  that  they  know  of  war  and  bloodshed  ?” 

“If  I might  be  so  bold,”  said  Sergeant  Hollister,  mechanically 
raising  his  hand  to  his  cap,  “ ’t  is  mentioned  in  the  good  book,  that 
the  Lord  made  the  sun  to  stand  still  while  Joshua  was  charging  the 
enemy,  in  order,  sir,  as  I suppose,  that  they  might  have  daylight  to 
turn  their  flank,  or  perhaps  make  a feint  in  the  rear,  or  some  such 
manoeuvre.  Now,  if  the  Lord  would  lend  them  a hand,  fighting 
cannot  be  sinful.  I have  often  been  nonplushed,  though,  to  find 
that  they  used  them  chariots  instead  of  heavy  dragoons,  who  are,  in 
all  comparison,  better  to  break  a line  of  infantry,  and  who,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  could  turn  such  wheel-carriages,  and,  getting  in  the 
rear,  play  the  very  devil  with  them,  horse  and  all.” 

“ It  is  because  you  do  not  understand  the  construction  of  those 
ancient  vehicles,  Sergeant  Hollister,  that  you  judge  of  them  so  erro- 
neously,” said  the  surgeon.  “ They  were  armed  with  sharp  weapons 
that  protruded  from  their  wheels,  and  which  broke  up  the  columns 
of  foot,  like  dismembered  particles  of  matter.  I doubt  not,  if  similar 
instruments  were  affixed  to  the  cart  of  Mrs.  Flanagan,  that  great 
confusion  might  be  carried  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  thereby,  this 
very  day.” 

“It's  but  little  that  the  mare  would  go,  and  the  rigTars  firing  at 
her,”  grumbled  Betty,  from  under  her  blanket;  “when  we  got  the 
plunder,  the  time  we  drove  them  through  the  Jarseys  it  was,  I had 
to  back  the  baste  up  to  the  dead;  for  the  divil  the  foot  would  she 
move,  forenent  the  firing,  wid  her  eyes  open.  Boanoke  and  Captain 
J ack  are  good  enough  for  the  red-coats,  letting  alone  myself  and  the 
mare.” 

A long  roll  of  the  drums,  from  the  hill  occupied  by  the  British, 
announced  that  they  were  on  the  alert ; and  a corresponding  signal 
was  immediately  heard  from  the  Americans.  The  bugle  of  the  Vir- 


T HE  Sl>Y. 


443 


giniaus  struck  up  its  martial  tones  ; and  in  a few  moments  both  the 
hills,  the  one  held  by  the  royal  troops,  and  the  other  by  their  ene- 
mies, were  alive  with  armed  men.  Day  had  begun  to  dawn,  and 
preparations  were  making  by  both  parties,  to  give  and  to  receive  the 
attack.  In  numbers  the  Americans  had  greatly  the  advantage ) but 
in  discipline  and  equipments  the  superiority  was  entirely  with  their 
enemies.  The  arrangements  for  the  battle  were  brief,  and  by  the 
time  the  sun  had  risen  the  militia  moved  forward. 

The  ground  did  not  admit  of  the  movements  of  horse ; and  the 
only  duty  that  could  be  assigned  to  the  dragoons  was  to  watch  the 
moment  of  victory,  and  endeavour  to  improve  the  success  to  the 
utmost.  Lawton  soon  got  his  warriors  into  the  saddle ; and  leaving 
them  to  the  charge  of  Hollister,  he  rode  himself  along  the  line  of 
foot,  who,  in  varied  dresses,  and  imperfectly  armed,  were  formed  in 
a shape  that  in  some  degree  resembled  a martial  array.  A scornful 
smile  lowered  about  the  lip  of  the  trooper  as  he  guided  Roanoke 
with  a skilful  hand  through  the  windings  of  their  ranks ; and  when 
the  word  was  given  to  march,  he  turned  the  flank  of  the  regiment, 
and  followed  close  in  the  rear.  The  Americans  had  to  descend  into 
a little  hollow,  and  rise  a hill  on  its  opposite  side,  to  approach  the 
enemy. 

The  descent  was  made  with  tolerable  steadiness,  until  near  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  when  the  royal  troops  advanced  in  a beautiful  line, 
with  their  flanks  protected  by  the  formation  of  the  ground.  The 
appearance  of  the  British  drew  a fire  from  the  militia,  which  was 
given  with  good  effect,  and  for  a moment  staggered  the  regulars. 
But  they  were  rallied  by  their  officers,  and  threw  in  volley  after 
volley  with  great  steadiness.  For  a short  time  the  fire  was  warm 
and  destructive,  until  the  English  advanced  with  the  bayonet.  This 
assault  the  militia  had  not  sufficient  discipline  to  withstand.  Their 
line  wavered,  then  paused,  and  finally  broke  into  companies  and 
fragments  of  companies,  keeping  up  at  the  same  time  a scattering 
and  desultory  fire. 


444 


THE  SPY. 


Lawton  witnessed  these  operations  in  silence,  nor  did  he  open  his 
mouth  until  the  field  was  covered  with  parties  of  the  flying  Ameri- 
cans. Then,  indeed,  he  seemed  stung  with  the  disgrace  thus  heaped 
upon  the  arms  of  his  country.  Spurring  Roanoke  along  the  side  of 
the  hill,  he  called  to  the  fugitives,  in  all  the  strength  of  his  powerful 
voice.  He  pointed  to  the  enemy,  and  assured  his  countrymen  that 
they  had  mistaken  the  way.  There  was  such  a mixture  of  indiffer- 
ence and  irony  in  his  exhortations,  that  a few  paused  in  surprise  — 
more  joined  them,  until,  roused  by  the  example  of  the  trooper,  and 
stimulated  by  their  own  spirit,  they  demanded  to  be  led  against  their 
foe  once  more. 

“ Come  on,  then,  my  brave  friends  !”  shouted  the  trooper,  turning 
his  horse’s  head  towards  the  British  line,  one  flank  of  which  was 
very  near  him ; u come  on,  and  hold  your  fire  until  it  will  scorch 
their  eyebrows.” 

The  men  sprang  forward,  and  followed  his  example,  neither  giving 
nor  receiving  a fire  until  they  had  come  within  a very  short  distance 
of  the  enemy.  An  English  sergeant,  who  had  been  concealed  by  a 
rock,  enraged  with  the  audacity  of  the  officer  who  thus  dared  their 
arms,  stepped  from  behind  his  cover,  and  advancing  within  a few 
yards  of  the  trooper,  levelled  his  musket  — 

“ Fire,  and  you  die  !”  cried  Lawton,  spurring  his  charger,  which 
leaped  forward  at  the  instant.  The  action  and  the  tone  of  his  voice 
shook  the  nerves  of  the  Englishman,  who  drew  his  trigger  with  an 
uncertain  aim.  Roanoke  sprang  with  all  his  feet  from  the  earth, 
and,  plunging,  fell  headlong  and  lifeless  at  the  feet  of  his  destroyer. 
Lawton  kept  his  feet,  standing  face  to  face  with  his  enemy.  The 
latter  presented  his  bayonet,  and  made  a desperate  thrust  at  the 
trooper’s  heart.  The  steel  of  their  weapons  emitted  sparks  of  fire, 
and  the  bayonet  flew  fifty  feet  in  the  air.  At  the  next  moment  its 
owner  lay  a quivering  corpse. 

u Come  on !”  shouted  the  trooper,  as  a body  of  English  appeared 
on  the  rock,  and  threw  in  a close  fire ; “ come  on !”  he  repeated,  and 


THE  SPY. 


445 


brandished  his  sabre  fiercely.  Then  his  gigantic  form  fell  backward; 
like  a majestic  pine  yielding  to  the  axe ; but  still,  as  he  slowly  fell, 
he  continued  to  wield  his  sabre,  and  once  more  the  deep  tones  of  his 
voice  were  heard  uttering,  “ Come  on  l” 

The  advancing  Americans  paused  aghast,  and,  turning,  they 
abandoned  the  field  to  the  royal  troops. 

It  was  neither  the  intention  nor  the  policy  of  the  English  com- 
mander to  pursue  his  success,  for  he  well  knew  that  strong  parties 
of  the  Americans  would  soon  arrive ; accordingly,  he  only  tarried  to 
collect  his  wounded,  and,  forming  in  a square,  he  commenced  his 
retreat  towards  the  shipping.  Within  twenty  minutes  of  the  fall  of 
Lawton,  the  ground  was  deserted  by  both  English  and  Americans. 

When  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  were  called  upon  to  enter 
the  field,  they  were  necessarily  attended  by  such  surgical  advisers  as 
were  furnished  by  the  low  state  of  the  profession  in  the  interior  at 
that  day.  Dr.  Sitgreaves  entertained  quite  as  profound  a contempt 
for  the  medical  attendants  of  the  militia  as  the  captain  did  of  the 
troops  themselves.  He  wandered,  therefore,  around  the  field,  cast- 
ing many  a glance  of  disapprobation  at  the  slight  operations  that 
came  under  his  eye ; but  when,  among  the  flying  troops,  he  found 
that  his  comrade  and  friend  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  he  hastened 
back  to  the  spot  at  which  Hollister  was  posted,  to  enquire  if  the 
trooper  had  returned.  Of  course,  the  answer  was  in  the  negative. 
Filled  with  a thousand  uneasy  conjectures,  the  surgeon,  without  re- 
garding, or  indeed  without  at  all  reflecting  upon  any  dangers  that 
might  lie  in  his  way,  strode  over  the  ground  at  an  enormous  rate,  to 
the  point  where  he  knew  the  final  struggle  had  been.  Once  before, 
the  surgeon  had  rescued  his  friend  from  death  in  a similar  situation ; 
and  he  felt  a secret  joy  in  his  own  conscious  skill,  as  he  perceived 
Eetty  Flanagan  seated  on  the  ground,  holding  in  her  lap  the  head 
of  a man  whose  size  and  dress  he  knew  could  belong  only  to  the 
troop  u\  As  he  approached  the  spot,  the  surgeon  became  alarmed 
at  the  aspect  of  the  washerwoman.  Her  little  black  bonnet  was 


446 


THE  SPY. 


thrown  aside,  and  her  hair,  which  was  already  streaked  with  grey 
hung  around  her  face  in  disorder. 

“ John!  dear  John!”  said  the  doctor,  tenderly,  as  he  bent  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  senseless  wrist  of  the  trooper,  from  which  it 
recoiled  with  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  his  fate;  “John!  dear 
John  ! where  are  you  hurt  ? — can  I help  you  ?” 

“ Yee  talk  to  the  senseless  clay,”  said  Betty,  rocking  her  body, 
and  unconsciously  playing  with  the  raven  ringlets  of  the  trooper’s 
hair ; “ it ’s  no  more  will  he  hear,  and  it ’s  but  little  will  he  mind 
yee’r  probes  and  yee’r  med’cines.  Och  hone,  och  hone ! — and 
where  will  be  the  liberty  now  ? or  who  will  there  be  to  fight  the 
battle,  or  gain  the  day  ?” 

“ John !”  repeated  the  surgeon,  still  unwilling  to  believe  the  evi- 
dence of  his  unerring  senses,  “dear  John,  speak  to  me;  say  what 
you  will,  that  you  do  but  speak.  Oh,  God  ! he  is  dead;  would  that 
I had  died  with  him !” 

“ There  is  but  little  use  in  living  and  fighting  now,”  said  Betty ; 
“both  him  and  the  baste ! see,  there  is  the  poor  cratur,  and  here  is 
the  master ! I fed  the  horse  with  my  own  hands,  the  day ; and  the 
last  male  that  he  ate  was  of  my  own  cooking.  Och  hone  ! och  hone  ! 
— that  Captain  Jack  should  live  to  be  killed  by  the  rig’lars !” 

“John  ! my  dear  John  !”  said  the  surgeon,  with  convulsive  sobs, 
“ thy  hour  has  come,  and  many  a more  prudent  man  survives  thee ; 
but  none  better,  nor  braver.  Oh  ! John,  thou  wert  to  me  a kind 
friend,  and  very  dear : it  is  unpliilosophical  to  grieve ; but  for  thee, 
John,  I must  weep,  even  in  bitterness  of  heart !” 

The  doctor  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  for  several  minutes 
sat  yielding  to  an  ungovernable  burst  of  sorrow ; while  the  washer- 
woman gave  vent  to  her  grief  in  words ; moving  her  body  in  a kind 
of  writhing,  and  playing  with  different  parts  of  her  favourite’s  dress 
with  her  fingers. 

“And  who’ll  there  be  to  incourage  the  boys  now?”  she  said: 
K Oh  ! Captain  Jack  ! Captain  Jack  ! yee  was  the  sowl  of  the  troop, 


THE  SPY. 


44'i 

and  it  was  but  little  we  know’d  of  the  danger,  and  yee  fighting. 
Och  ! he  was  no  maly  mouth’d,  that  quarrelled  wid  a widowed 
woman  for  the  matter  of  a burn  in  the  mate,  or  the  want  of  a break- 
fast. Taste  a drop,  darling,  and  it  may  be,  ’t  will  revive  yee.  Och ! 
and  he  T1  nivir  taste  agin ; here  ’s  the  doctor,  honey,  him  yee  used 
to  blarney  wid,  wapeing  as  if  the  poor  sowl  would  die  for  yee.  Och  ! 
he ’s  gone,  he  ’s  gone ; and  the  liberty  is  gone  wid  him.” 

A thundering  sound  of  horses’  feet  came  rolling  along  the  road 
which  led  near  the  place  where  Lawton  lay,  and  directly  the  whole 
body  of  Yirginians  appeared,  with  Dunwoodie  at  their  head.  The 
news  of  the  captain’s  fate  had  reached  him;  for  the  instant  that  he 
saw  the  body  he  halted  the  squadron,  and  dismounting,  approached 
the  spot.  The  countenance  of  Lawton  was  not  in  the  least  distorted, 
but  the  angry  frown  which  had  lowered  over  his  brow  during  the 
battle  was  fixed  even  in  death.  His  frame  was  composed,  and 
stretched  as  in  sleep.  Dunwoodie  took  hold  of  his  hand,  and  gazed 
a moment  in  silence ; his  own  dark  eye  kindled,  and  the  paleness 
which  had  overspread  his  features  was  succeeded  by  a spot  of  deep 
red  in  either  cheek. 

“ With  his  own  sword  will  I avenge  him  !”  he  cried,  endeavouring 
to  take  the  weapon  from  the  hand  of  Lawton ; but  the  grasp  resisted 
his  utmost  strength.  “ It  shall  be  buried  with  him.  Sitgreaves, 
take  care  of  our  friend,  while  I revenge  his  death.” 

The  Major  hastened  back  to  his  charger,  and  led  the  way  in  pur- 
suit of  the  enemy. 

While  Dunwoodie  had  been  thus  engaged,  the  body  of  Lawton 
lay  in  open  view  of  the  whole  squadron.  He  was  a universal  favour- 
ite, and  the  sight  inflamed  the  men  to  the  utmost : neither  officers 
nor  soldiers  possessed  that  coolness  which  is  necessary  to  ensure  suc- 
cess in  military  operations;  but  they  spurred  ardently  after  their 
enemies,  burning  with  a wish  for  vengeance. 

The  English  were  formed  in  a hollow  square,  which  contained 
their  wounded,  who  were  far  from  numerous,  and  were  marching 
steadily  across  a very  uneven  country  as  the  dragoons  approached 


4 43 


THE  SPY. 


The  horse  charged  in  column,  and  were  led  by  Dunwoodie,  who, 
burning  with  revenge,  thought  to  ride  through  their  ranks,  and  scat- 
ter them  at  a blow.  But  the  enemy  knew  their  own  strength  too 
well,  and,  standing  firm,  they  received  the  charge  on  the  points  of 
their  bayonets.  The  horses  of  the  Virginians  recoiled,  and  the  rear 
rank  of  the  foot  throwing  in  a close  fire,  the  Major,  with  a few  men, 
fell.  The  English  continued  their  retreat  the  moment  they  were 
extricated  from  their  assailants  ; and  Dunwoodie,  who  was  severely, 
but  not  dangerously  wounded,  recalled  his  men  from  further  attempts, 
which,  in  that  stony  country,  must  necessarily  be  fruitless. 

A sad  duty  remained  to  be  fulfilled.  The  dragoons  retired  slowly 
through  the  hills,  conveying  their  wounded  commander,  and  the 
body  of  Lawton.  The  latter  they  interred  under  the  ramparts  of 
one  of  the  Highland  forts,  and  the  former  they  consigned  to  the 
tender  care  of  his  afflicted  bride. 

Many  weeks  were  gone  before  the  Major  was  restored  to  sufficient 
strength  to  be  removed.  During  those  weeks,  how  often  did  he  bless 
the  moment  that  gave  him  a right  to  the  services  of  his  beautiful 
nurse ! She  hung  around  his  couch  with  fond  attention ; adminis- 
tered with  her  own  hands  every  prescription  of  the  indefatigable  Sit- 
greaves,  and  grew  each  hour  in  the  affections  and  esteem  of  her  hus- 
band. An  order  from  Washington  soon  sent  the  troops  into  winter- 
quarters,  and  permission  was  given  to  Dunwoodie  to  repair  to  his 
own  plantation,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel,  in  order  to  com- 
plete the  restoration  of  his  health.  Captain  Singleton  made  one  of 
the  party;  and  the  whole  family  retired  from  the  active  scenes  of 
the  war,  to  the  ease  and  plenty  of  the  Major’s  own  estate.  Before 
leaving  Fishkill,  however,  letters  were  conveyed  to  them,  through  an 
unknown  hand,  acquainting  them  with  Henry’s  safety  and  good 
health*  and  also  that  Colonel  Wellmere  had  left  the  continent  for 
his  native  island,  lowered  in  the  estimation  of  every  honest  man  in 
vhe  royal  army. 

It  was  a happy  winter  for  Dunwoodie,  and  smiles  once  more  began 
to  play  around  the  lovely  mouth  of  Frances. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


’Midst  furs,  and  silks,  and  jewels’  sheen, 

He  stood,  in  simple  Lincoln  green, 

The  centre  of  the  glittering  ring ; 

And  Snowdon’s  knight  is  Scotland’s  king  ! 

Lady  of  the  Lake. 

The  commencement  of  the  following  year  was  passed,  on  the  part 
of  the  Americans,  in  making  great  preparations,  in  conjunction  with 
their  allies,  to  bring  the  war  to  a close.  In  the  south,  Greene  and 
Hawdon  made  a bloody  campaign,  that  was  highly  honourable  to  the 
troops  of  the  latter,  but  which,  by  terminating  entirely  to  the  advan- 
tage of  the  former,  proved  him  to  be  the  better  general  of  the  two. 

New  York  was  the  point  that  was  threatened  by  the  allied  armies; 
and  Washington,  by  exciting  a constant  apprehension  for  the  safety 
of  that  city,  prevented  such  reinforcements  from  being  sent  to  Corn- 
wallis as  would  have  enabled  him  to  improve  his  success. 

At  length,  as  autumn  approached,  every  indication  was  given  that 
the  final  moment  had  arrived. 

The  French  forces  drew  near  to  the  royal  lines,  passing  through 
the  Neutral  Ground,  and  threatened  an  attack  in  the  direction  of 
Kingsbridge,  while  large  bodies  of  Americans  were  acting  in  concert. 
By  hovering  around  the  British  posts,  and  drawing  nigh  in  the  Jer- 
seys, they  seemed  to  threaten  the  royal  forces  from  that  quarter  also. 
The  preparations  partook  of  the  nature  of  both  a siege  and  a storm. 
But  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  the  possession  of  intercepted  letters  from 
Washington,  rested  securely  within  his  lines,  and  cautiously  disre- 
garded the  solicitations  of  Cornwallis  for  succour. 


It  was  at/  the  close  of  a stormy  day  in  the  month  of  September, 
that  a large  assemblage  of  officers  was  collected  near  the  door  of  a 
building  that  was  situated  in  the  heart  of  the  American  troops,  who 
held  the  Jerseys.  The  age,  the  dress,  and  the  dignity  of  deportment 
of  most  of  these  warriors,  indicated  them  to  be  of  high  rank : but  to 
one  in  particular  was  paid  a deference  and  obedience  that  announced 
him  to  be  of  the  highest.  His  dress  was  plain,  but  it  bore  the  usual 
military  distinctions  of  command.  He  was  mounted  on  a noble  ani- 
mal, of  a deep  bay ; and  a group  of  young  men,  in  gayer  attire,  evi- 
dently awaited  his  pleasure,  and  did  his  bidding.  Many  a hat  was 
lifted  as  its  owner  addressed  this  officer;  and  when  he  spoke,  a pro« 
found  attention,  exceeding  the  respect  of  mere  professional  etiquette, 
was  exhibited  on  every  countenance.  At  length  the  General  raised 
his  own  hat,  and  bowed  gravely  to  all  around  him.  The  salute  was 
returned,  and  the  party  dispersed,  leaving  the  officer  without  a single 
attendant,  except  his  body-servants  and  one  aid-de-camp.  Dismount- 
ing, he  stepped  back  a few  paces,  and  for  a moment  viewed  the  con- 
dition of  his  horse  with  the  eye  of  one  who  well  understood  the  ani- 
mal, and  then,  casting  a brief  but  expressive  glance  at  his  aid,  he 
retired  into  the  building,  followed  by  that  gentleman. 

On  entering  an  apartment  that  was  apparently  fitted  for  his  recep- 
tion, he  took  a seat,  and  continued  for  a long  time  in  a thoughtful 
attitude,  like  one  in  the  habit  of  communing  much  with  himself. 
During  this  silence,  the  aid-de-camp  stood  in  expectation  of  his  orders. 
At  length  the  General  raised  his  eyes,  and  spoke  in  those  low  placid 
tones  that  seemed  natural  to  him. 

u Has  the  man  whom  I wished  to  see  arrived,  sir  V ' 

“ He  waits  the  pleasure  of  your  excellency.” 
u I will  receive  him  here,  and  alone,  if  you  please.” 

The  aid  bowed  and  withdrew.  In  a few  minutes  the  door  again 
opened,  and  a figure,  gliding  into  the  apartment,  stood  modestly  at  a 
distance  from  the  General,  without  speaking.  His  entrance  was  un- 
heard by  the  officer,  who  sat  gazing  at  the  fire,  still  absorbed  in  his 


THE  SPY. 


451 


own  meditations.  Several  minutes  passed,  when  he  spoke  to  himself 
in  an  under-tone  — 

“ To-morrow  we  must  raise  the  curtain,  and  expose  our  plans. 
May  heaven  prosper  them !” 

A slight  movement  made  by  the  stranger  caught  his  ear,  and  he 
turned  his  head,  and  saw  that  he  was  not  alone.  He  pointed  silently 
to  the  fire,  towards  which  the  figure  advanced,  although  the  multi- 
tude of  his  garments,  which  seemed  more  calculated  for  disguise 
than  comfort,  rendered  its  warmth  unnecessary.  A second  mild  and 
courteous  gesture  motioned  to  a vacant  chair,  but  the  stranger  re- 
fused it  with  a modest  acknowledgment.  Another  pause  followed, 
and  continued  for  some  time.  At  length  the  officer  arose,  and  open- 
ing a desk  that  was  laid  upon  the  table  near  which  he  sat,  took  from 
it  a small,  but  apparently  heavy  bag. 

“ Harvey  Birch,”  he  said,  turning  to  the  stranger,  “ the  time  has 
arrived  when  our  connexion  must  cease ; henceforth  and  for  ever  we 
must  be  strangers.” 

The  pedler  dropped  the  folds  of  the  great-coat  that  concealed  his 
features,  and  gazed  for  a moment  earnestly  at  the  face  of  the  speaker  ; 
then  dropping  his  head  upon  his  bosom,  he  said,  meekly — 

“If  it  be  your  excellency’s  pleasure.” 

“ It  is  necessary.  Since  I have  filled  the  station  which  I now 
hold,  it  has  become  my  duty  to  know  many  men,  who,  like  yourself, 
have  been  my  instruments  in  procuring  intelligence.  You  have  I 
trusted  more  than  all;  I early  saw  in  you  a regard  to  truth  and 
principle,  that,  I am  pleased  to  say,  has  never  deceived  me  — you 
alone  know  my  secret  agents  in  the  city,  and  on  your  fidelity  depend, 
not  only  their  fortunes,  but  their  lives.” 

He  paused,  as  if  to  reflect,  in  order  that  full  justice  might  be 
done  to  the  pedler,  and  then  continued  — 

“ I believe  you  are  one  of  the  very  few  that  I have  employed  who 
have  acted  faithfully  to  our  cause ; and,  while  you  have  passed  as  a 
spy  of  the  enemy,  have  never  given  intelligence  that  you  were  not 


452 


THE  SPY. 


permitted  to  divulge.  To  me,  and  to  me  only  of  all  the  world,  you 
seem  to  have  acted  with  a strong  attachment  to  the  liberties  of 
America.” 

During  this  address,  Harvey  gradually  raised  his  head  from  his 
bosom,  until  it  reached  the  highest  point  of  elevation ; a faint  tinge 
gathered  in  his  cheeks,  and,  as  the  officer  concluded,  it  was  diffused 
over  his  whole  countenance  in  a deep  glow,  while  he  stood  proudly 
swelling  with  his  emotions,  but  with  eyes  that  modestly  sought  the 
feet  of  the  speaker. 

“ It  is  now  my  duty  to  pay  you  for  these  services ; hitherto  you 
have  postponed  receiving  your  reward,  and  the  debt  has  become  a 
heavy  one  — I wish  not  to  undervalue  your  dangers ; here  are  a hun- 
dred doubloons ; you  will  remember  the  poverty  of  our  country,  and 
attribute  to  it  the  smallness  of  your  pay.” 

The  pedler  raised  his  eyes  to  the  countenance  of  the  speaker ; but, 
as  the  other  held  forth  the  money,  he  moved  back,  as  if  refusing 
the  bag. 

“ It  is  not  much  for  your  services  and  risks,  I acknowledge,”  con- 
tinued the  general,  “but  it  is  all  that  I have  to  offer;  at  the  end  of 
the  campaign,  it  may  be  in  my  power  to  increase  it.” 

“ Does  your  excellency  think  that  I have  exposed  my  life,  and 
blasted  my  character,  for  money?” 

“ If  not  for  money,  what  then  ?” 

“ What  has  brought  your  excellency  into  the  field  ? For  what  do 
you  daily  and  hourly  expose  your  precious  life  to  battle  and  the 
halter  ? What  is  there  about  me  to  mourn,  when  such  men  as  you 
risk  their  all  for  our  country  ? No  — no  — no  — not  a dollar  of  your 
gold  will  I touch ; poor  America  has  need  of  it  all !” 

The  bag  dropped  from  the  hand  of  the  officer,  and  fell  at  the  feet 
of  the  pedler,  where  it  lay  neglected  during  the  remainder  of  the 
interview.  The  officer  looked  steadily  at  the  face  of  his  companion, 
and  continued  — 

“ There  are  many  motives  which  might  govern  me,  that  to  you 


TI1E  SPY. 


453 


are  unknown.  Our  situations  are  different;  I am  known  as  the 
leader  of  armies  — but  you  must  descend  into  the  grave  with  the 
reputation  of  a foe  to  your  native  land.  Remember  that  the  veil 
which  conceals  your  true  character  cannot  be  raised  in  years  — per- 
haps never.” 

Birch  again  lowered  his  face,  but  there  was  no  yielding  of  the  soul 
in  the  movement. 

“You  will  soon  be  old;  the  prime  of  your  days  is  already  past; 
what  have  you  to  subsist  on  ?” 

“ These !”  said  the  pedler,  stretching  forth  his  hands,  that  were 
already  embrowned  with  toil. 

“ But  those  may  fail  you ; take  enough  to  secure  a support  to 
your  age.  Remember  your  risks  and  cares.  I have  told  you  that 
the  characters  of  men  who  are  much  esteemed  in  life  depend  on 
your  secrecy;  what  pledge  can  I give  them  of  your  fidelity?” 

“ Tell  them,”  said  Birch,  advancing,  and  unconsciously  resting 
one  foot  on  the  bag,  “ tell  them  that  I would  not  take  the  gold !” 

The  composed  features  of  the  officer  relaxed  into  a smile  of  bene- 
volence, and  he  grasped  the  hand  of  the  pedier  firmly. 

“ Now,  indeed,  I know  you;  and  although  the  same  reasons  which 
have  hitherto  compelled  me  to  expose  your  valuable  life  will  still 
exist,  and  prevent  my  openly  asserting  your  character,  in  private  I 
can ‘always  be  your  friend;  fail  not  to  apply  to  me  when  in  want  or 
suffering,  and  so  long  as  God  giveth  to  me,  so  long  will  I freely 
share  with  a man  who  feels  so  nobly  and  acts  so  well.  If  sickness 
or  want  should  ever  assail  you,  and  peace  once  more  smile  upon  our 
efforts,  seek  the  gate  of  him  whom  you  have  so  often  met  as  Harper, 
and  he  will  not  blush  to  acknowledge  you  in  his  true  character.” 

“ It  is  little  that  I need  in  this  life,”  said  Harvey ; “ so  long  as 
God  gives  me  health  and  honest  industry,  I can  never  want  in  this 
country ; but  to  know  that  your  excellency  is  my  friend,  is  a bless- 
ing that  I prize  more  than  all  the  gold  of  England’s  treasury.” 

The  officer  stood  for  a few  moments  in  the  attitude  of  intense 


454 


THE  SPY. 


thought.  He  then  drew  to  him  the  desk,  and  wrote  a few  lines  on 
a piece  of  paper,  and  gave  it  to  the  pedler. 

“ That  Providence  destines  this  country  to  some  great  and  glo- 
rious fate  I must  believe,  while  I witness  the  patriotism  that  per- 
vades the  bosoms  of  her  lowest  citizens,”  he  said.  “It  must  be 
dreadful  to  a mind  like  yours  to  descend  into  the  grave,  branded  as 
a foe  to  liberty ; but  you  already  know  the  lives  that  would  be  sacri- 
ficed, should  your  real  character  be  revealed.  It  is  impossible  to  do 
you  justice  now,  but  1 fearlessly  entrust  you  with  this  certificate  ; 
should  we  never  meet  again,  it  may  be  serviceable  to  your  children.” 
“ Children  !”  exclaimed  the  pedler,  “ can  I give  to  a family  the 
infamy  of  my  name  !” 

The  officer  gazed  at  the  strong  emotion  he  exhibited  with  pain, 
and  he  made  a slight  movement  towards  the  gold ; but  it  was  arrested 
by  the  expression  of  his  companion's  face.  Harvey  saw  the  inten- 
tion, and  shook  his  head,  as  he  continued  more  mildly  — 

“ It  is,  indeed,  a treasure  that  your  excellency  gives  me  ; it  is  safe 
too.  There  are  men  living  who  could  say  that  my  life  was  nothing 
to  me,  compared  to  your  secrets.  The  paper  that  I told  you  was 
lost  I swallowed  when  taken  last  by  the  Yirginians.  It  was  the 
only  time  I ever  deceived  your  excellency,  and  it  shall  be  the  last  ; 
yes,  this  is,  indeed,  a treasure  to  me ; perhaps,”  he  continued,  with 
a melancholy  smile,  “ it  may  be  known  after  my  death  who  was  my 
friend ; but  if  it  should  not,  there  are  none  to  grieve  for  me.” 

“ Remember,”  said  the  officer,  with  strong  emotion,  “ that  in  me 
you  will  always  have  a secret  friend;  but  openly  I cannot  know 
you.” 

“ I know  it,  I know  it,”  said  Birch ; “ I knew  it  when  I took  the 
service.  ;T  is  probably  the  last  time  that  I shall  ever  see  your  ex- 
cellency. May  God  pour  down  his  choicest  blessings  on  your  head  !” 
He  paused,  and  moved  towards  the  door.  The  officer  followed  him 
with  eyes  that  expressed  deep  interest.  Once  more  the  pedler  turned, 
and  seemed  to  gaze  on  the  placid,  but  commanding  features  of  the 


THE  SPY. 


455 


general  with  regret  and  reverence,  and  then,  bowing  low,  he  with- 
drew. 

The  armies  of  America  and  France  were  led  by  their  illustrious 
commander  against  the  enemy  under  Cornwallis,  and  terminated  a 
campaign  in  triumph  that  had  commenced  in  difficulties.  Great 
Britain  soon  after  became  disgusted  with  the  war  ; and  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  States  was  acknowledged. 

As  years  rolled  by,  it  became  a subject  of  pride  among  the  differ- 
ent actors  in  the  war,  and  their  descendants,  to  boast  of  their  efforts 
in  the  cause  which  had  confessedly  heaped  so  many  blessings  upon 
their  country ; but  the  name  of  Harvey  Birch  died  away  among  the 
multitude  of  agents,  who  were  thought  to  have  laboured  in  seciet 
against  the  rights  of  their  countrymen.  His  image,  however,  was 
often  present  to  the  mind  of  the  powerful  chief,  who  alone  knew  his 
true  character;  and  several  times  did  he  cause  secret  enquiries  to 
be  made  into  the  other’s  fate,  one  of  which  only  resulted  in  any  suc- 
cess. By  this  he  learned  that  a pedler  of  a different  name,  but 
similar  appearance,  was  toiling  through  the  new  settlements  that 
were  springing  up  in  every  direction,  and  that  he  was  struggling 
with  the  advance  of  years  and  apparent  poverty.  Death  prevented 
further  enquiries  on  the  part  of  the  officer,  and  a long  period  passed 
before  he  was  again  heard  of. 


CHAPTER  XXXY. 


Some  village  Hampden,  that  with  dauntless  breast 
The  little  tyrant  of  his  fields  withstood  — 

Some  mute,  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest ; 

Some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  his  country’s  blood. 

Gray . 

It  was  thirty-three  years  after  the  interview  which  we  have  just  re- 
lated that  an  American  army  was  once  more  arrayed  against  the 
troops  of  England;  but  the  scene  was  transferred  from  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson  to  those  of  the  Niagara. 

The  body  of  Washington  had  long  lain  mouldering  in  the  tomb; 
but  as  time  was  fast  obliterating  the  slight  impressions  of  political 
enmity  or  personal  envy;  his  name  was  hourly  receiving  new  lustre, 
and  his  worth  and  integrity  each  moment  became  more  visible,  not 
only  to  his  countrymen,  but  to  the  world.  He  was  already  the 
acknowledged  hero  of  an  age  of  reason  and  truth ; and  many  a young 
heart,  amongst  those  who  formed  the  pride  of  our  army  in  1814, 
was  glowing  with  the  recollection  of  the  one  great  name  of  America, 
and  inwardly  beating  with  the  sanguine  expectation  of  emulating,  in 
some  degree,  its  renown.  In  no  one  were  these  virtuous  hopes  more 
vivid  than  in  the  bosom  of  a young  officer  who  stood  on  the  table- 
rock,  contemplating  the  great  cataract,  on  the  evening  of  the  25th 
of  July  of  that  bloody  year.  The  person  of  this  youth  was  tall  and 
finely  moulded,  indicating  a just  proportion  between  strength  and 
activity ; his  deep  black  eyes  were  of  a searching  and  dazzling  bright- 
ness. At  times,  as  they  gazed  upon  the  flood  of  waters  that  rushed 
tumultuously  at  his  feet,  there  was  a stern  and  daring  look  that 
flashed  from  them,  which  denoted  the  ardour  of  an  enthusiast.  But 


THE  SPY. 


457 


this  proud  expression  was  softened  by  the  lines  of  a mouth,  around 
which  there  played  a suppressed  archness,  that  partook  of  feminine 
beauty.  His  hair  shone  in  the  setting  sun  like  ringlets  of  gold,  as 
the  air  from  the  falls  gently  moved  the  rich  curls  from  a forehead, 
whose  whiteness  showed  that  exposure  and  heat  alone  had  given 
their  darker  hue  to  a face  glowing  with  health.  There  was  another 
officer  standing  by  the  side  of  this  favoured  youth ; and  both  seemed, 
by  the  interest  they  betrayed,  to  be  gazing,  for  the  first  time,  at  the 
wonder  of  the  western  world.  A profound  silence  was  observed  by 
each,  until  the  companion  of  the  officer  that  we  have  described  sud- 
denly started,  and  pointing  eagerly  with  his  sword  into  the  abyss 
beneath,  exclaimed  — 

“ See  ! Wharton,  there  is  a man  crossing  in  the  very  eddies  of  the 
cataract,  and  in  a skiff  no  bigger  than  an  egg-shell.” 

“He  has  a knapsack  — it  is  probably  a soldier,”  returned  the 
other.  “Let  us  meet  him  at  the  ladder,  Mason,  and  learn  his 
tidings.” 

Some  time  was  expended  in  reaching  the  spot  where  the  adven 
turer  was  intercepted.  Contrary  to  the  expectations  of  the  young 
soldiers,  he  proved  to  be  a man  far  advanced  in  life,  and  evidently 
no  follower  of  the  camp.  His  years  might  be  seventy,  and  they 
were  indicated  more  by  the  thin  hairs  of  silver  that  lay  scattered 
over  his  wrinkled  brow,  than  by  any  apparent  failure  of  his  system. 
His  frame  was  meagre  and  bent;  but  it  was  the  attitude  of  habit, 
for  his  sinews  were  strung  with  the  toil  of  half  a century.  His 
dress  was  mean,  and  manifested  the  economy  of  its  owner,  by  the 
number  and  nature  of  its  repairs.  On  his  back  was  a scantily  fur- 
nished pack,  that  had  led  to  the  mistake  in  his  profession.  A few 
words  of  salutation,  and,  on  the  part  of  the  young  men,  of  surprise, 
that  one  so  aged  should  venture  so  near  the  whirlpools  of  the  cata- 
ract, were  exchanged ; when  the  old  man  enquired,  with  a voice  that 
began  to  manifest  the  tremor  of  age,  the  news  from  the  contending 


armies. 


20 


458 


THE  SPY* 


“ We  whipped  the  red-coats  here  the  other  day,  among  the  grass 
on  the  Chippewa  plains,”  said  the  one  who  was  called  Mason  ; “ since 
when,  we  have  been  playing  hide-and-go-seek  with  the  ships;  but 
we  are  now  marching  back  from  where  we  started,  shaking  our  heads, 
and  as  surly  as  the  devil.” 

“ Perhaps  you  have  a son  among  the  soldiers,”  said  his  compa- 
nion, with  a milder  demeanour,  and  an  air  of  kindness ; “if  so,  tell 
me  his  name  and  regiment,  and  I will  take  you  to  him.” 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  and,  passing  his  hand  over  his  silver 
locks,  with  an  air  of  meek  resignation,  he  answered  — 

“No;  I am  alone  in  the  world  !” 

“ You  should  have  added,  Captain  Dunwoodie,”  cried  his  careless 
comrade,  “ if  you  could  find  either ; for  nearly  half  our  army  has 
marched  down  the  road,  and  may  be,  by  this  time,  under  the  walls 
of  Port  George,  for  any  thing  that  we  know  to  the  contrary.” 

The  old  man  stopped  suddenly,  and  looked  earnestly  from  one  of 
his  companions  to  the  other ; the  action  being  observed  by  the  sol- 
diers, they  paused  also. 

“Did  I hear  right?”  the  stranger  uttered,  raising  his  hand  to 
screen  his  eyes  from  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun ; “ what  did  he  call 
you?” 

“ My  name  is  Wharton  Dunwoodie,”  replied  the  youth,  smiling. 

The  stranger  motioned  silently  for  him  to  remove  his  hat,  which 
the  youth  did  accordingly,  and  his  fair  hair  blew  aside  like  curls  of 
silk,  and  opened  the  whole  of  his  ingenuous  countenance  to  the  in- 
spection of  the  other. 

“?Tis  like  our  native  land!”  exclaimed  the  old  man  with  vehe- 
mence, “ improving  with  time ; — God  has  blessed  both.” 

“ Why  do  you  stare  thus,  Lieutenant  Mason  ?”  cried  Captain  Dun- 
woodie, laughing  a little ; “ you  show  more  astonishment  than  when 
you  saw  the  falls.” 

“ Oh,  the  falls  ! — they  are  a thing  to  be  looked  at  on  a moonshiny 
night,  by  your  aunt  Sarah  and  that  gay  old  bachelor,  Colonel  Single- 


THE  SPY. 


459 


ton ; but  a fellow  like  myself  never  shows  surprise,  unless  it  may  be 
at  such  a touch  as  this.” 

The  extraordinary  vehemence  of  the  stranger’s  manner  had  passed 
away  as  suddenly  as  it  was  exhibited,  but  he  listened  to  this  speech 
with  deep  interest,  while  Dunwoodie  replied  a little  gravely  — 

“ Come,  come,  Tom,  no  jokes  about  my  good  aunt,  I beg;  she  is 
kindness  itself ; and  I have  heard  it  whispered  that  her  youth  was 
not  altogether  happy. 

“Wiiy,  as  to  rumour,”  said  Mason,  “ there  goes  one  in  Accomac, 
that  Colonel  Singleton  offers  himself  to  her  regularly  every  Valen- 
tine’s day ; and  there  are  some  who  add,  that  your  old  great-aunt 
helps  his  suit.” 

“ Aunt  Jeanette  !”  said  Dunwoodie,  laughing;  “dear  good  soul, 
she  thinks  but  little  of  marriage  in  any  shape,  I believe,  since  the 
death  of  Dr.  Sitgreaves.  There  were  some  whispers  of  a courtship 
between  them  formerly,  but  it  ended  in  nothing  but  civilities,  and  I 
suspect  that  the  whole  story  arises  from  the  intimacy  of  Colonel 
Singleton  and  my  father.  You  know  they  were  comrades  in  the 
horse,  as  indeed  was  your  own  father.” 

“ I know  all  that,  of  course ; but  you  must  not  tell  me  that  the 
particular,  prim  bachelor  goes  so  often  to  General  Dunwoodie’ s plan- 
tation merely  for  the  sake  of  talking  old  soldier  with  your  father. 
The  last  time  I was  there,  that  yellow,  sharp-nosed  housekeeper  of 
your  mother’s  took  me  into  the  pantry,  and  said  that  the  colonel  was 
no  despisable  match,  as  she  called  it,  and  how  the  sale  of  his  plan- 
tation in  Georgia  had  brought  him  — oh,  Lord ! I don’t  know  how 
much.” 

“ Quite  likely,”  returned  the  captain ; “ Katy  Haynes  is  no  bad 
calculator.” 

They  had  stopped  during  this  conversation,  in  uncertainty  whether 
their  new  companion  was  to  be  left  or  not. 

The  old  man  listened  to  each  word  as  it  was  uttered,  with  the 
most  intense  interest;  but,  towards  the  conclusion  of  the  dialogue, 


460 


THE  SPY. 


the  earnest  attention  of  his  countenance  changed  to  a kind  of  inward 
smile.  He  shook  his  head,  and,  passing  his  hand  oyer  his  forehead, 
seemed  to  be  thinking  of  other  times.  Mason  paid  but  little  atten- 
tion to  the  expression  of  his  features,  and  continued  — 

“To  me,  she  is  selfishness  embodied!” 

“Her  selfishness  does  but  little  harm,”  returned  Dunwoodie. 
“One  of  her  greatest  difficulties  is  her  aversion  to  the  blacks.  She 
says,  that  she  never  saw  but  one  that  she  liked.” 

“And  who  was  he?” 

“ His  name  was  Caesar;  he  was  a house-servant  of  my  late  grand- 
father Wharton.  You  don’t  remember  him,  I believe;  he  died  the 
same  year  with  his  master,  while  we  were  children.  Katy  yearly 
sings  his  requiem,  and,  upon  my  word,  I believe  he  deserved  it.  I 
have  heard  something  of  his  helping  my  English  uncle,  as  we  call 
General  Wharton,  in  some  difficulty  that  occurred  in  the  old  war. 
My  mother  always  speaks  of  him  with  great  affection.  Both  Caesar 
and  Katy  came  to  Virginia  with  my  mother  when  she  married.  My 
mother  was — ” 

“ An  angel !”  interrupted  the  old  man,  in  a voice  that  startled  the 
young  soldiers  by  its  abruptness  and  energy. 

“ Did  you  know  her  ?”  cried  the  son,  with  a glow  of  pleasure  on 
his  cheek. 

The  reply  of  the  stranger  was  interrupted  by  sudden  and  heavy 
explosions  of  artillery,  which  were  immediately  followed  by  con- 
tinued volleys  of  small-arms,  and  in  a few  minutes  the  air  was  filled 
with  the  tumult  of  a warm  and  well-contested  battle. 

The  two  soldiers  hastened  with  precipitation  towards  the  camp, 
accompanied  by  their  new  acquaintance.  The  excitement  and  anxiety 
created  by  the  approaching  fight  prevented  a continuance  of  the  con- 
versation, and  the  three  held  their  way  to  the  army,  making  occa- 
sional conjectures  on  the  cause  of  the  fire,  and  the  probability  of  a 
general  engagement.  During  their  short  and  hurried  walk,  Captain 
Dunwoodie,  however,  threw  several  friendly  glances  at  the  old  man, 


THE  SPy. 


461 


who  moved  over  the  ground  with  astonishing  energy  for  his  years, 
for  the  heart  of  the  youth  was  warmed  by  an  eulogium  on  a mothei 
that  he  adored.  In  a short  time,  they  joined  the  regiment  to  which 
the  officers  belonged,  when  the  captain,  squeezing  the  stranger’s 
hand,  earnestly  begged  that  he  would  make  enquiries  after  him  on 
the  following  morning,  and  that  he  might  see  him  in  his  own  tent. 
Here  they  separated. 

Every  thing  in  the  American  camp  announced  an  approaching 
struggle.  At  a distance  of  a few  miles,  the  sound  of  cannon  and 
musketry  was  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  cataract.  The  troops 
were  soon  in  motion,  and  a movement  made  to  support  the  division 
of  the  army  which  was  already  engaged.  Night  had  set  in  before 
the  reserve  and  irregulars  reached  the  foot  of  Lundy’s  Lane,  a road 
that  diverged  from  the  river  and  crossed  a conical  eminence,  at  no 
great  distance  from  the  Niagara  highway.  The  summit  of  this  hill 
was  crowned  with  the  cannon  of  the  British,  and  in  the  flat  beneath 
was  the  remnant  of  Scott’s  gallant  brigade,  which  for  a long  time 
had  held  an  unequal  contest  with  distinguished  bravery.  A new  line 
was  interposed,  and  one  column  of  the  Americans  directed  to  charge 
up  the  hill,  parallel  to  the  road.  This  column  took  the  English  in 
flank,  and,  bayoneting  their  artillerists,  gained  possession  of  the 
cannon.  They  were  immediately  joined  by  their  comrades,  and  the 
enemy  was  swept  from  the  hill.  But  large  reinforcements  were  join- 
ing the  English  general  momentarily,  and  their  troops  were  too  brave 
to  rest  easy  under  the  defeat.  Repeated  and  bloody  charges  were 
made  to  recover  the  guns,  but  in  all  they  were  repulsed  with  slaugh- 
ter. During  the  last  of  these  struggles,  the  ardour  of  the  youthful 
captain  whom  we  have  mentioned  urged  him  to  lead  his  men  some 
distance  in  advance,  to  scatter  a daring  party  of  the  enemy.  He 
succeeded,  but  in  returning  to  the  line  missed  his  lieutenant  from 
the  station  that  he  ought  to  have  occupied.  Soon  after  this  repulse, 
which  was  the  last,  orders  were  given  to  the  shattered  troops  to 
return  to  the  camp.  The  British  were  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  pre- 


462 


THE  SPY. 


parations  were  made  to  take  in  suck  of  the  wounded  as  could  be 
moved.  At  this  moment  Wharton  Dunwoodie,  impelled  by  affection 
for  his  friend,  seized  a lighted  fusee,  and  taking  two  of  his  men, 
went  himself  in  quest  of  his  body,  where  he  was  supposed  to  have 
fallen.  Mason  was  found  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  seated  with  great 
composure,  but  unable  to  walk  from  a fractured  leg.  Dunwoodie 
saw  and  flew  to  the  side  of  his  comrade,  exclaiming  — 

“Ah ! dear  Tom,  I knew  I should  find  you  the  nearest  man  to 
the  enemy.” 

“ Softly,  softly;  handle  me  tenderly,”  replied  the  lieutenant;  “no, 
there  is  a brave  fellow  still  nearer  than  myself,  and  who  he  can  be  I 
know  not.  He  rushed  out  of  our  smoke,  near  my  platoon,  to  make 
a prisoner  or  some  such  thing,  but,  poor  fellow,  he  never  came  back ; 
there  he  lies  just  over  the  hillock.  I have  spoken  to  him  several 
times,  but  I fancy  he  is  past  answering.” 

Dunwoodie  went  to  the  spot,  and  to  his  astonishment  beheld  the 
aged  stranger. 

“ It  is  the  old  man  who  knew  my  mother !”  cried  the  youth ; “ for 
her  sake  he  shall  have  honourable  burial;  lift  him,  and  let  him  be 
carried  in ; his  bones  shall  rest  on  native  soil.” 

The  men  approached  to  obey.  He  was  lying  on  his  back,  with 
his  face  exposed  to  the  glaring  light  of  the  fusee ; his  eyes  were 
closed,  as  if  in  slumber ; his  lips,  sunken  with  years,  were  slightly 
moved  from  their  natural  position,  but  it  seemed  more  like  a smile 
than  a convulsion  which  had  caused  the  change.  A soldier’s  musket 
lay  near  him;  his  hands  were  pressed  upon  his  breast,  and  one  of 
them  contained  a substance  that  glittered  like  silver.  Dunwoodie 
stooped,  and  removing  the  limbs,  perceived  the  place  where  the 
bullet  had  found  a passage  to  his  heart.  The  subject  of  his  last  care 
was  a tin  box,  through  which  the  fatal  lead  had  gone ; and  the  dying 
moments  of  the  old  man  must  have  passed  in  drawing  it  from  his 
bosom.  Dunwoodie  opened  it,  and  found  a paper  in  which,  to  his 
astonishment,  he  read  the  following : — 


THE  SPY. 


463 


“ Circumstances  of  political  importance,  which  involve  the  lives 
and  fortunes  of  many,  have  hitherto  kept  secret  what  this  paper  now 
reveals.  Harvey  Birch  has  for  years  been  a faithful  and  unrequited 
servant  of  his  country.  Though  man  does  not,  may  God  reward 
him  for  his  conduct!” 

“Geo.  Washington.” 

It  was  the  spy  oe  the  neutral  ground,  who  died  as  he  had 
lived,  devoted  to  his  country,  and  a martyr  to  her  liberties. 


* 


